Battle of the Bands
by simplymoshingintomordor
Summary: Jace is an arrogant, spotlight-hogging lead guitarist, and Jonathan Morgenstern's best friend. The trouble is, Jon's sister - Clary - can't stand him, and the feeling's mutual. But when the boys enter the Battle of the Bands contest and all but move in with the Morgensterns, the two of them are forced to see a lot more of each other than they would like. Clace (Sizzy/Malec too) AH
1. Chapter 1: Trying not to kill Jonathan

**Summary: Jace is the arrogant, spotlight-hogging lead guitarist in the band _Mallard Massacre,_ and Jonathan Morgenstern's best friend. The trouble is, Jon's sister - Clary - can't stand him, and the feeling's mutual. But when the boys enter in for the Battle of the Bands contest and all but move in with the Morgensterns, the two of them are forced to see a lot more of each other than they would have hoped.**

**Hey! I've had this idea going around in my head for months so, since it's summer, I thought I'd finally do something productive and here it is! I'm making sure I'm always a couple of chapters ahead of posting so updates should be fairly frequent. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters. I just drive them crazy ;)**

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**Chapter 1: Trying not to kill Jonathan**

"Shit!" I curse, eyeing the thick black line that dissects my artwork. The young girl's cheek now sports a rather gruesome looking scar. "JONATHAN!"

It had all been going so perfectly. All I had was this one last drawing to finish and then my summer work portfolio would be complete. School starts up again in two days and yes, I realise I may have left it to the last minute, but I'm not all that studious. I leave that to my best friend Simon. So as the fates would have it, now would be the exact moment that my idiot of an older brother decides it would be a great idea for his so-called metal band _Mallard Massacre_ –which is god-awful in my opinion, but they think they're the shit- to begin practice in the room conveniently below mine. _Pshh._ They call it practice, I prefer instrumental torture. The desk I'm working on shakes violently, scattering my colouring pencils all over the place. I can just about hear Jordan Kyle's vocals over the deafening cacophony. The thing is, he's actually not that bad. In truth, none of them are; separately, they're all pretty decent musicians.

My brother's been playing the drums since he was seven and, considering the amount of money that means my parents had to fork out for his lessons, it's hardly surprising that he can own the kit. Though if you repeat any of this to him, I will personally hunt you down and kill you. Similarly, Jace and Sebastian are great guitarists. Don't get me wrong, they're also some of the most annoying, self-important pricks I've ever had the misfortune to meet, but they can't half shred. Especially Jace – he's the lead guitarist. Alec is probably the quietest member of the band, which in my book means he's the one I like the most, and he's a solid bassist. And then there's Jordan. Like I said, he's actually rather good, and that face of his definitely doesn't hurt to look at. He's got _frontman_ written all over him.

So what's the problem, I hear you ask? With all that talent – and yes, I am woman enough to admit, _the looks_ – you should have the perfect band. Well, that would indeed be the case if you didn't factor in the small problem of each member, Alec possibly excluded, having an ego so large I'm surprised matter isn't gravitating around it. You see, to make a band function, you need to work together as a team. So with Jace trying to steal the spotlight with another solo every five seconds, Sebastian jumping around like a maniac to draw attention to his less complex rhythm guitar, Jordan belting out screams where they're really not needed and Jonathan trying to drown everyone else out...well, you can kind of see where I'm coming from, right?

I look again at my ruined sketch. I could try to rub out the line, but I have a feeling that would probably do more damage. Starting over would require too much effort, so I decide to just leave it. If anything, the girl kind of pulls it off. It makes her look enigmatic, dangerous even. Of course, this isn't going to stop me from giving Jonathan a piece of my mind. I snatch the pad off of the table and storm down the stairs, working myself up into a fury. I don't even pause to knock before I throw open the practice room door for added theatrical effect.

"JONATHAN, YOU ARE SO DE-" I freeze, taking in the scene before me. The boys haven't even noticed. Damn, so much for my dramatic entrance. Jonathan continues to bash away at the drums, while Jace is precariously balanced on the windowsill –yep, you guessed it- tapping out a solo. On the other side of the room, Sebastian is jumping up and down, hair all over the place, with poor Alec backed into the corner with his bass, trying not to get hit by him. I rip the microphone out of a startled Jordan's hand while he is mid-scream.

"JONATHAN CHRISTOPHER MORGENSTERN, STOP THAT INFERNAL RACKET RIGHT NOW!" I yell, nodding in satisfaction as the music – surely it must be some kind of blasphemy to call it that? – begins to die down. Of course, they'd never make it that easy for me, and now the rest of us are forced to watch as Jace and Jonathan fight to have the last note or cymbal crash, respectively.

"Are you quite finished?" I deadpan into the microphone, placing my free hand on my hip.

"_Clarissa_, you just ruined the song!" Jonathan whines, finally acknowledging my presence. I dodge out of the way as he lobs his drumsticks at me. Jace takes advantage of Jonathan's lack of weaponry to strum one final chord, winking at my brother.

"Wait, that was a song?" I ask, faking incredulity. "I thought you were just trying to wake up the residents of the cemetery two miles away? I mean, come on, it's the weekend. You should really just let them rest."

"This is art, Midge," Jace proclaims, hopping down from the windowsill. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Even without the ledge to stand on, my brother's best friend of over a decade still towers over me. Though, at my grand height of five foot nothing, that isn't too hard to do. His abundance of nicknames relating to my height, or lack thereof, barely has an effect on me anymore - Midge seeming to be a personal favourite. Apparently midget is too much of a mouthful, not to mention politically incorrect, as he always likes to point out.

"No, Herondale. _This_ is art," I say, thrusting my sketchbook in his face. "And it happens to count for a third of my grade. But now, thanks to your butchering of those poor instruments, it's ruined."

"Butchering?!" Jace splutters. "That hurts Midge…" He smacks his hand to his chest melodramatically. "Right here."

"Well, I will make sure it hurts _everywhere _if you guys don't keep the bloody noise down! Or, even better, just do the eardrums of the population a favour and _stop. _Apart from you, Jordan." I turn to the dark-haired boy and flash him a smile. "Have you considered joining another band? You're actually really good."

"Wow, thanks Clary." Jordan shrugs, blushing just a little.

"Anytime, Kyle." I add, just because I know it will piss Jace off. The idea of someone else getting praise is alien to him. I turn my attention back to the predictably fuming blonde in front of me, satisfied that I still know how to get under his skin.

"You're boring me now, Clarissa. Can't you just go round that geek Lewis' house or something?" Jonathan huffs, blowing his black hair out of his eyes.

"No I can't just-" Wait, did I just say _black_ hair? I shove Jace out of the way to get a better look at my brother. "Jon, what did you do to your hair!?"

"You're only just noticing this now?" Jonathan raises his eyebrows while flicking his chin-length dyed black locks. "It's been like this for at least a couple of days."

"It's probably my fault," Jace smirks. "I tend to draw the eye."

"No, it has not!" I insist, ignoring Jace's comment. "I'm an artist, how unobservant do you think I am?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Jace pipes in. Again, no one pays him any attention.

"Okay, so maybe I did it this morning. Whatever. Just don't tell our parents." Jon pulls up his hoodie. "There's a chance they might not notice."

"Jonathan, you've gone from white-blonde to black. I'm pretty sure they're going to notice and when they do, they will kill you. What was wrong with your natural colour anyway?"

"I didn't like it, duh. Black is more metal." He leans back against the wall. "Now pass me my drumsticks so we can carry on."

"Oh no," I swipe the drumsticks off of the floor before Sebastian has a chance to grab at them. "Not so fast, Verlac. First, we are going to discuss what is to be done about our little conflict of interests.

"What conflict of interests?" Jonathan asks disinterestedly. Seriously, I sometimes wonder whether the boy has a brain; unless the little of it that he does have is just too small to focus on anything other than himself, the band, himself again, and girls.

"The matter of me wanting to complete my artwork, without having to worry about my ears bleeding or the walls falling down."

"It is not wise for you to insult my skills while I am in such close proximity, Midge." Jace glares at me.

"Herondale?"

"Yes, Shortstuff?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Guys," Sebastian cuts in. "Can you please save this flirting business for when we're not around to be nauseated by it? This is cutting into practice and my aunt wants me back in time for dinner. She's French." Jace and I both stare at him, too shocked at his ridiculous implications for words.

I've known Jace almost my entire life and he has never been anything more to me than my brother's irritating best friend. We tolerate each other. That is all. Anything else is…frankly, absurd. I mean, sure, he's not too hard on the eyes. With his wild mess of blonde hair, golden eyes, and lean physique, he is one of the most sought after boys in our school. Plus the words, 'I'm in a band,' do wonders, regardless of whether people have even heard the music. I'd probably like him too if it wasn't for that one small obstacle I refer to as his personality. Being in the same room as him for a certain amount of time is a big ask from me. I sometimes wonder why my brother ever became friends with him in the first place, before realising that Jonathan is pretty much the same. Either that, or it's because they both have the same name. Five-year olds get a kick out of that kind of thing.

"Mate, we know she's French." Jonathan sighs, thankfully ignoring the rest of Sebastian's words. "Must you always point that out, Seb?"

"There's no harm in reminding you. I feel like you guys overlook that fact too much."

"And this is detrimental to our lives, how?"

"You don't realise quite how much of a travesty tardiness is in my household."

"Then I apologise," Jonathan says, rather sincerely. "I will never undermine the importance of her French-ness again."

"I appreciate that, man." Sebastian nods, satisfied.

"Okay, _stop_." I snap, finally coming back to my senses. "Stop changing the subject."

"I already told you, go to Lewis' house." Jonathan rolls his eyes, as if my existence is nothing but a burden to him. _Yes, and I love you so much too._

"And I already told you, I can't. He's at his cousin's Bar Mitzvah."

"Hey, Clary?" Alec says, alerting us to his presence. The band all turn to face him as if they'd forgotten he was even there. Seriously, that's how quiet he is. I _really _like him. With that dazzling black-hair-and-blue-eyes combination, Alec Lightwood is a dream. I may actually have shed a few tears when Jonathan finally told me that he was gay. He's also the only one who always calls me Clary. Did I mention how much I like him? "You can go round my house if you like. My parents are at the same party your folks have gone to, so it's just Isabelle at home."

"Oh, alright then. I guess I can do that." I shrug, slightly annoyed that I have no more reason to moan at Jonathan. Aside from drawing, that's probably my favourite hobby.

"You might want to stay the night while you're at it," Jonathan adds. "The guys are sleeping over."_ Deep breaths, Clary._

"Apart from me," Sebastian sighs.

"Brilliant," I groan. "Anything else you want to tell me while you're at it?"

"Yeah, actually." Jon sits up. "We're entering the Battle of the Bands contest this year so we're having practice every night after school. You'll have to be quick if you want to get a lift home with us."

"_Every night_!?" My eyes bug wide. _Just keep breathing. _

_Inhale and exhale. _

_Inhale and exhale. _

_I said exhale dammit! _

"Have Mum and Dad actually agreed to this?"

"Dad was half-asleep when I asked him, so he said as long as we're done before he gets home from work, it's all good. And Mum was actually pretty excited. She said it's great that I want to 'pursue my artistic development' and all that crap. So yeah, it's happening, Sis. Deal with it."

"So whom exactly am I getting a lift home with?" My attempts to calm myself down are seriously failing. _You do not want to kill Jonathan, _I repeat in my head._ You do _not_ want to kill Jonathan. You'd get into serious trouble if you killed Jonathan. _Well, actually, if I walk around in his oversized hoodies for a while and grunt every so often, the parents might not notice.

"Me, of course. Unless you have another brother I don't know about."

"But there's five of you. And there's one of me. So that makes six of us in total."

"Oh my god!" Jace slaps his hand on my shoulder, a look of astonishment on his face. "Midge, why on earth are you planning to do art at university when you _quite clearly_ should be doing maths!? Seriously Jon, why didn't you tell me your sister was such a genius? They'll want to study this one."

"Get lost, Herondale." I push him off, shooting him such a dark look that he chokes off mid-laugh. "What I was going to say, before this dimwit interrupted me, is that your car is a five-seater. How would we all fit?"

"Sebastian's not riding with us," Jordan explains.

"My aunt's making me cycle everywhere this year," Sebastian moans, slumping down against one of the amps. "Apparently she's all into the environment now or something. She's-"

"FRENCH," We all finish in unison.

"Is that all, Clarissa?" Jonathan cocks his head to the side. "Or is there something else you'd like me to clarify?"

"Battle of the Bands. When is it?" I say, brandishing one of the drumsticks at him.

"End of the Christmas term."

"So I only have to put up with you guys in my house for, what, four months?"

"Give or take a week," Jonathan shrugs. A long silence follows as I try to collect my thoughts. If I attack Jonathan now, his band may or may not try to save him. Though it would pain me to do it, I could probably take Alec. The other boys however, are a whole other kettle of fish. My heart sinks as I realise my chances of succeeding are very slim. But no, this is by no means the end. I lift up my chin resolutely. I will bide my time, put up with this nuisance for a little while, and then I will make Jonathan Morgenstern pay. I square my shoulders and look my brother straight in the eye.

"Four months. Brilliant. I can't wait." I chuck both of the drumsticks at his over-sized head, smiling to myself as one of them hits their target. Then I spin on my heel and stalk out of the room, rueing the day he was conceived. _Couldn't my parents just have watched a movie that night instead?_

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**Huzzah! Things are about to get pretty interesting around the Morgenstern household... **

**Thank you so much to anyone reading this! ****I haven't written fanfiction for about four years (hence why my account seems pretty new - I can't have anyone reading my embarrassing old stuff!) so I'm a bit rusty. Unfortunately, none of my friends have read TMI so I don't have a beta and don't know if I'll get one, but it would be nice to have someone to bounce some ideas around with, so if you're interested let me know or hmu on tumblr! Again, thanks for taking the time to check out my story, I really appreciate it. Feedback would be awesome :D Till the next time...**


	2. Chapter 2: Trying not to sniff Jace

**HEY GUYS! Thank you so so much to every single one of you who followed/favourited/reviewed the last chapter. I was definitely not expecting that D: I want to thank the reviewers especially because as I told some of you, I was so scared about rejoining this site after such a long time but you guys made it worth it and so much more. Also an extra thank you to the guest reviewers because I couldn't reply to you separately like I did with the others. Just...wow. I wasn't going to post the next chapter so quickly but you were all so brilliant I couldn't resist, so here it is! ENJOY :D**

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**Chapter 2: Trying not to sniff Jace**

I don't say a word as Jonathan drives me to school Monday morning. In all honesty, the weekend wasn't actually that awful. After I'd left the practice room, I went straight over to Isabelle's house and we plotted ways to get back at Jonathan late into the night. It's still early days though so I'm not going to reveal our devious plans until we have all the details ironed out. But trust me, he's not going to know what's hit him. Other than that, we spent the majority of Sunday at Simon's house having our annual back-to-school Lord of the Rings Marathon: Extended Edition. It was twelve hours of pure bliss. We even dressed up. So really, I only had to deal with Jonathan twice since I'd last seen him with the band. There was an annoying twenty minutes I had to wait last night while he was too busy in the bathroom straightening his hair, and then there was breakfast this morning. That part I actually enjoyed.

Our parents came home pretty late last night, so it was only this morning that they finally got a chance to see what Jonathan had done to his hair. He tried to play it cool, keeping his hoodie up at all times, but the idiot had forgotten that his side-fringe was still perfectly visible and our father had a fit.

"_Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern!"_ Dad gasped, dropping the thermos of coffee he always takes to work on the floor, as Jon sat down at the breakfast table. "What in heaven's name have you done to your hair?!"

"What are you talking about?" Jonathan slumped lower in his chair, checking that his hood was still up. "All I did was comb it."

"And steal my straighteners," I grumbled, between bites of toast.

"Do you take me for a fool, son?" Dad reached forward to grab a section of Jonathan's fringe. "Jocelyn, have you seen this?"

"What was that, dear?" Mum said, sauntering into the room. Dad threw back Jonathan's hood to reveal the rest of his dyed black hair.

"By the Angel," She breathed, placing her hand upon her heart.

"Your son has had the audacity to dye his hair! _This,"_ Dad fumed, indicating his own white-blonde hair. "Is the legacy of the Morgensterns. Do you not _care_ for our legacy? We are Swiss and proud. You and me. We are the only ones left. Your sister is ginger!"

"Hey!" I protested, slamming my toast down on the table. "What's wrong with that?"

"Yeah," Mum came to my defence, snapping out of her trance. "What exactly is wrong with being ginger, Valentine?"

"Nothing, nothing!" He held up his hands, eyes flicking nervously between us redheads. "I am merely referring to that as being a mark of your British heritage. This fine shade of blonde your brother and I have inherited, however, is a mark of _my _heritage. Do you hear that Jonathan? Countless generations of Morgensterns have had this unique hair colour, and you have just disregarded the blood of your ancestors as if it was trivial!"

"Relax, Dad, it's wash-out!" Jonathan backed away, looking genuinely terrified. Meanwhile, I was having the time of my life.

"_Wash-out!?_" Dad bashed his fist on the table. Jonathan fell out of his chair.

"That's mahogany!" Mum scolded him.

"Sorry, dear." He bashed his fist on the table again, though with a little less force this time. "Did you just call our Swiss blood _wash-out_? I don't get you teenagers with your strange words but I'm pretty sure that's insulting-"

"Err, Dad?" I managed to choke out between fits of giggles. "He means the dye."

"What?"

"The hair dye. It's only temporary. It washes out."

"Yeah!" Jonathan scrambled up off the floor. "Three washes and it's back to being Swiss."

"Is that so, Clarissa?" Dad looked to me for confirmation. I could only nod.

"Right, well." Dad straightened up, grabbing his thermos. "In that case, you are washing your hair three times tonight, do you hear me boy?"

"Yes, Father." Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"Good. Jocelyn, you take it from here. I'm off to work." Then he stalked out of the room. Mum actually wasn't as forceful as I hoped she'd be. She chided Jonathan for upsetting Dad, but contrary to what I was hoping, she rather liked the fact that he was trying to express himself through colour. Even if that colour was jet black. Jonathan sulked all the way to the car and only made a move to turn and glare at me when I burst into laughter as soon as he left the driveway. That was fifteen minutes ago.

"Earth to Clary," I start as Jonathan waves his hand in front of my face. "I know you're off with the faeries half the time but we're here now." Sure enough, the car is now standing still in the school parking lot. Dozens of excited students bustle through the main gates, the majority of them wearing uniform since they are still in lower school. I guess getting to wear my own clothes will make this year somewhat better.

"Ugh, fine." I swat his hand away and step out of the car, grabbing my book bag.

"No dawdling after school!" He says over his shoulder as he walks off towards his class. "I will drive off without you."

"I won't!" I yell, as I see some girls from his year approach him. "We don't want you to miss the gynaecologist appointment again!" I snicker to myself as the girls halt in their tracks and look at him curiously. Jonathan stands there dumbstruck as I wander off in the opposite direction. _Ah, the perks of being at the same school as your brother._ Granted, there are few, but I like to make the most of bad situations.

School starts up again as it always does. My Form Tutor for the year, Mr Wayland, hands us all our timetables, gives the same speech he always does about starting the year afresh and working hard and then he sends us off to our first class. I glance down at my timetable, smiling when I see that it's English Lit. Since I'm in my last two years of Secondary School, I only have four subjects to take for the year. My options are English Lit, Biology, History and of course, Art. Walking into the classroom, I choose a table near the front – classes are much smaller in Year 12 so it's frowned upon to sit at the back – and settle down with my books. There are only a few other people around so I decide to get out my sketchbook and add some finishing touches to some of my drawings. I'm so immersed in my artwork that I don't even notice when the chair next to me is pulled out. What I do finally notice is the horrific voice I hear whisper right next to my ear, "Fancy seeing you here, Midge."

"Ah!" I jump back, hitting Jace over the head with my book as he laughs away to himself. He's dressed as he usually is for school, wearing black skinny jeans that look uncomfortably tight and a loose-fitting black hoodie. I wouldn't be surprised if he and Jonathan phoned each other every morning for wardrobe advice. This particular hoodie has the words 'All Hope Is Gone' written across the front. His blonde hair falls around his face in stark contrast to the darkness of his clothes. I sigh inwardly; as much as I hate to admit it, Jace is gorgeous. He's the kind of gorgeous that rarely exists outside of the public eye. It's just a shame how arrogantly aware he is of that fact. "Herondale, what the hell are you doing in my class?"

"Aw how sweet, I've missed you too, Midge."

"_Jace_," I compose myself. "Seriously, you do realise this is a Year 12 class, right? Or are they holding you back a year?"

"Holding me back?" Jace smirks. "Ha! They wish they could keep me for another year! No, the truth is I had a free option, so it was either taking another first-year class, or writing a 5000-word essay on a subject of my choice. I picked this."

"You picked English Literature, a class that requires you to write multiple essays a term, over a one-off project you probably could have written about yourself?" I ask, incredulous.

"Written about myself?" Jace's eyes widen. "_Crap_, why didn't I think of that? It would have been so easy. Content: me. Citations: me. Bibliography: me. Damn it. And there's no way they could mark me down for it because it'll all be 100% accurate!"

"What a shame, I guess you're stuck with me for the rest of the year instead," I roll my eyes at him.

"Hey, I'm doing you a favour," He grins. "Now instead of suffering through English Lit alone, you get to stare at me to pass the time."

"Speaking of, why are you sitting next to me anyway?" I raise both eyebrows at him, because despite my best efforts, I am incapable of raising just the one. I know, my life sucks. He doesn't say anything. "Could it be, perhaps, that I'm the only person you know in this class?" My voice gets louder as the look in his eyes confirms my words.

"Don't be ridiculous, Shorty. It is not a question of what you can do for me, but rather what I can do for you. I don't generally make it my business to know people in the years below me, but they sure as hell know who I am." He winks at me. "I'm doing you a favour Midge. You'll be the talk of lower school."

"Why, thank you so much Jace." I deadpan. "That is all I ever wanted. However will I repay you?"

"I'm sure I can think of something." He wiggles his eyebrows, leaning in close to me. He smells of aftershave and something a little fruity. Mango? Must be his shampoo. His aftershave is the most over-powering though. You know those adverts where they get some poor guy who has no luck with the ladies, and then after spraying on some special new cologne all the women from miles around flock to him? Yeah, well they weren't joking. I don't know what brand Jace is wearing but it's certainly doing the trick. As if he even needed the help! It's all I can do not to move closer to him, just to get a good whiff of that stuff if nothing else. His scent combined with the intensity of his golden eyes is clearly too much for me to take this early in the morning. I think I may stop breathing for a second. But I know it's just for a second because a shrill cry explodes my little bubble not soon after.

"Clary!" Aline runs over to me, shock plastered all over her face. "I've missed you so much!"

"Oh, h-hey there A-Aline." I cough a little to stop my voice coming out so hoarse. _Get a grip, Clary,_ I chide myself. _What the hell just happened?_ Jace chuckles next to me. "How was Beijing?"

"Oh, you know, the usual…" She trails off as she notices Jace next to me. "Errm…lots of Chinese people. But anyway, hello Jace! Remember me?" I groan internally as I remember Aline's little crush on Jace. When she first found out that he was best-friends with Jonathan, she'd always insisted on coming round my house at every opportune moment in the hope that she might run into him. Though Sebastian actually happened to be her cousin, Jace didn't visit his house nearly as much - probably because of his aunt. Of course, it soon became pretty clear to her that Jace and I weren't on the best of terms, so any association with me might actually prove to be a disadvantage. She seems to have forgotten all that now though as she makes googly eyes at him.

"Errm, Aline, is it?" Jace smirks at her, surreptitiously nudging me.

"Oh my god, yes!" She gasps. I roll my eyes and continue with my sketch as she gushes over him. "I love your hoodie, by the way. All hope is gone. It's so deep."

"Thanks," He flashes her a crooked smile. "It's Slipknot."

"Yeah," She nods, looking a little confused. "It's _so_ _slipknot_…"

"Oh god, Aline, no!" I snort. Jace's grin widens. "Slipknot is a band. It's not an adjective."

"I…err knew that…" She laughs nervously. I almost feel bad for her, except for the fact that I have worn my Slipknot shirt numerous times around her. For a friend of mine to not know who they are by now is a sin. "I was just messing with you. Anyway, Clary," She turns to me, changing the subject. "I didn't know you were friends with Jace now!?"

"I'M NOT!" I choke out, a little too loud. Some people a few seats away turn to look at me.

"She's right," Jace adds, leaning back in his chair. He runs a hand through his tousled blonde hair. "We're not friends. We're lovers."

"You're what?!" Aline exclaims at the same moment I screech, "WHAT THE HELL?"

"Wow, I mean, it did feel like I was kind of interrupting something there earlier." Aline looks at me wide-eyed. I shake my head violently at her.

"No, there's nothing going on! We're not lovers!"

"_What?_" Jace tips his chair forward to slam his hands against the desk. His face looks pained. "So last night meant nothing to you?"

"I-…w-wha-…huh-" I splutter, completely mortified, then resort to just smacking his shoulder repeatedly.

"Errm, okay, it definitely seems like I've gotten in the middle of something here," Aline backs away, eyes still shining from all the gossip I've undoubtedly provided her with. "I'm just going to sit _way_ over there. Later, Clary."

"No wait, Aline!" I call, but then our teacher, Mr Aldertree walks in and it's too late to explain. I stamp Jace's foot under the table, satisfied when he lets out a small yelp of pain and then turn to face the board, ignoring him for the rest of the lesson. I can see this year is going to be more difficult than I thought.

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**Oh she has no idea... -laughs evilly- **

**Ah don't we all love a little bit of sexual-tension-Clace?! :P There's plenty more where that came from! I've also got some Simon and Izzy drama waiting for you in the next chapter...**

**Thanks to all of you for sticking with me! I'm working on the first round of the band contest right now, and this is where you guys come in. I was wondering, how many of you have read TID? Just to make the story a little more hilarious, I was thinking of including some TID characters as members of competing bands. They'd only be minor roles so it won't give anything away from the plot of TID, but I think it would definitely make things more interesting. So I'd like your thoughts, yes or no?**

**Review and I'll love you forever. Cheers! -smim out- **


	3. Chapter 3: Trying to exorcise Isabelle

**Helloooo again! Honestly, I have no idea what to say. _17 reviews_ for that last chapter? And FIFTY FOLLOWS D: You people are seriously amazing. If my band ever makes it, I am actually going to dedicate a song to you all. No joke. Thank you so much to every single one of you, even if you didn't leave a review. I just cannot believe how many people are taking their time to read this. I love you all.**

**One more thing before you read this - I just wanted to clarify some things about the school. I am actually English so since that's the only schooling system I've ever known, I've based the fic on it. This doesn't mean the story is particularly set in England though. I like to think it could just apply anywhere, so whatever accent you're reading this in, roll with that. So basically, the band members are all in Year 13 and Clary, Simon, Isabelle, Aline etc are all in Year 12. Years 12 and 13 are the last two years in school for us, we call it Sixth Form, so if what I've inferred from other fanfics is right, that should be equivalent to Juniors and Seniors in an American High School. Tell me if I'm wrong. So everyone in Year 13 is 17-18 years old, and the Year 12s are 16-17. I hope that cleared things up. Let me know if you have more questions :) Right, that's all. Onwards...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters, though I wish I owned Jonathan. I really do.**

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**Chapter 3: Trying to exorcise Isabelle**

I make my way to the field for lunch with Isabelle, my thoughts slipping back to this morning. As soon as English Lit was over, I had gathered my books as quickly as I could, desperate to escape both Jace and Aline. I thought I was clear when suddenly Jace yelled, 'See you tonight, girlfriend!' when I was halfway down the corridor, earning me some very curious looks from nearby students. One of these days, I am actually going to strangle that boy. Though I honestly couldn't see how it benefited him. Sure, when he insinuated we were lovers in front of Aline, it was clearly a joke, but to everyone else? Did he really get that much pleasure out of making my life a misery? I refused to believe this was just some ploy to improve my social status. Jace Herondale isn't that selfless. In fact, I doubt the word even exists in his vocabulary. His only redeeming factor is his music taste. Ok, and maybe that damn aftershave. Seriously, I'm going to have to find out where it's from. Not so I can spray it on myself and just sniff it all day long. God no. That would just be so weird.

Isabelle nudges me, snapping me out of my reverie.

"Clarissa Morgenstern, have you been listening to a word I've been saying?" She rolls her eyes before pulling me to the lunch table.

"Sure, you were talking about…erm, that new dress you bought?" I hedge, eyeing her warily. Isabelle Lightwood does not like being ignored. Though having been friends with me for so long, my occasional absent-mindedness is something she's grown to tolerate.

"Oh." This takes her off guard. "So you _were_ listening." _Get in there, Clary! _I mentally fist-pump. "Anyway, as I was saying, I'm thinking of wearing it to the preliminary round of Battle of the Bands tomorrow. What do you think?"

"Hold on," I raise my hand up towards her. "Did you say, _tomorrow_?"

"Yeah, it's an initiation round. All the local bands that are decent enough to make it to the official contest are filtered through. Didn't Jonathan tell you? He expects everyone to be there for support."

"No, Jonathan did not tell me anything," I seethe. Simon and I were going to watch Death Note together tomorrow! "Wait, how come you know about it?"

"I ran into him earlier on the way to drama," She shrugs nonchalantly.

"Did you now…"

"Yeah," Isabelle shrugs again. There's something about the way she's avoiding my gaze that tells me there's more.

"Isabelle Lightwood, what are you hiding?" I narrow my eyes at her, waving my peanut butter sandwich threateningly.

"Nothing." She bites her lip. "Okay, fine! Why didn't you tell me Jonathan dyed his hair black?" That I was not expecting.

"Err…because I didn't think it was important?" I raise my eyebrows. Then it hits me. "Oh God, Izzy, please don't tell me you have a thing for my brother!"

"Keep it down!" She slaps her hand over my mouth. "I don't! I mean, well, I didn't. It's just…that hair. It makes him look so _dangerous_, like he could just burn down the whole world if he wanted to. Or like a predator, just ready to pounce on his victim, you know what I mean?" Isabelle looks at me hopefully.

"I'm about to puke up my sandwich," I mumble. "This is wrong. This is beyond wrong. This is so wrong it's…insane. _Oh crap_ that's it, isn't it? You've finally lost it, haven't you?" I stand up and begin pacing back and forth. "It's okay, we're going to get you help. Just leave it all to me…my mother knows this woman down at the hospital. Madeleine, I think her name is. We can get you seen to immediately." I gasp dramatically. "Unless this is even more serious? Like some kind of possession? Worry not, child, we will purge this demon from you. " I place my hands on either side of Isabelle's head and begin chanting gibberish.

"Oh my god, Clary! Stop!" She swats my hands away as I stifle a giggle. "You're messing up my hair! Geez, it's only a little crush. As soon as his hair goes back to normal, I'll probably grow out of it. And besides, you've fancied Alec for years and I've put up with it."

"I do not fancy Alec! As an artist, I merely appreciate his combination of hair and eye tones…and his features. That is all." I sit back down as Isabelle looks at me sceptically. "Okay fine, can we both just agree not to mention this again?"

"Yes, thank you." Isabelle sighs. We both finish off our sandwiches, an awkward silence between us. I decide to believe Isabelle when she says it's just a passing thing; the thought of her with my brother is just too sickening to comprehend. On the one hand, she'd be my sister-in-law, which would be brilliant. On the other hand, it's _Jonathan_. I could never agree to subjecting one of my best friends to a lifetime with him. Of course, there's also the small matter of Simon being completely in love with her. Isabelle is beautiful, smart and independent, but she's also the most oblivious person I know. How daft must you be to not notice that someone, who you spend so much time with, worships you as if you were a goddess on earth? He follows her everywhere with those puppy dog eyes and hangs on every word she says, yet all that's on her mind is who she could date this week to annoy her parents. Perhaps I should tell Simon to dye his hair black? Just as I'm conjuring the mental image of a black-haired Simon, the man himself walks over to join us. His eyes light up as he catches sight of Isabelle, but then harden as he turns to face me. I drop my hand mid-wave.

"What's up, Simon?" I ask brightly, hoping to better his mood.

"Why don't you ask someone else?" He snaps, stopping a few feet away from us_._ "I wouldn't know. I'm always the last to know."

I can't help but think he actually looks pretty adorable when he's angry. His eyebrows pull together in the middle and his lower lip is trembling slightly. _Come on, Isabelle! _I try to send her mental vibes. _You have feelings for Simon. They may be deep down, like, really deep, but you do. Just look at his face. Don't look at your nails. His face is way more interesting than your nails, I promise._

"Last to know what?" Isabelle says, raising her head. _Hell yeah, my vibes worked._

"Ask Clary," He huffs, refusing to look at me. Huh? I thought he was only yelling at me because he couldn't bring himself to yell at Isabelle. I didn't realise I was actually the source of his anger.

"What's he talking about?" She looks at me questioningly.

"I honestly have no idea…" I rack my brain to try to find something I may have done to annoy Simon. "Unless you already know about Battle of the Bands? Sorry Simon, I know we were meant to have our Death Note marathon tomorrow. I'll still do whatever I can to try to get out of it."

"You're not coming round tomorrow?" Simon gasps, a betrayed look on his reddening face. Damn, I'm guessing that wasn't it then. "And for _him_ as well. I should have guessed."

"Well, he is my ride home. If I piss him off, he won't give me a lift until he gets over it." Which knowing Jonathan, would be a while. That boy can hold a grudge.

"He's driving you home too?" Simon's eyes widen.

"He's been doing that for a while…" I say, slightly confused now.

"HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON!?" He suddenly shouts, arms flailing.

"Jeez, calm down Simon," Isabelle intervenes. His shoulders relax a little at her voice but he doesn't stop glaring at me.

"I don't know," I shrug, a bit frantic. Before he was adorable, now he's actually starting to worry me. I haven't seen Simon this incensed since the Star Wars prequels came out. Oh, how he hated them. "Since he passed his driving test? What's your problem, Simon?"

"What's my problem?" He asks, incredulous. "What's _my _problem?"

"That is what she asked," Isabelle murmurs.

"Yes, what's your problem?" I reiterate, a little annoyed now. "He's my brother."

Simon's jaw drops.

"HE'S YOUR BRO- wait." He steps back. "Who are you talking about?"

"My brother, Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern." I speak slowly, as if I were talking to a child. Or the Hulk. "I believe you've met him. Many times."

"Oh." He snaps his mouth shut.

"Wait, who were _you_ talking about?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Jace," He mumbles.

"_Jace?_" I turn to Isabelle who just gives me an 'I don't know what's he's talking about, he's clearly missed his meds this week, perhaps we should move away' look. Yes, her looks are pretty descriptive.

"Yes, Jace." Simon straightens up, some of his anger returning. "Your _boyfriend_. Which, by the way, I only found out about because I overheard Kaelie talking about it in the canteen. Why didn't you tell me Clary? I thought you hated him."

"Jace is your boyfriend?" Isabelle splutters, spitting out the gulp of water she'd just taken.

"NO!" I exclaim, horrified. "No, he's not my boyfriend. I do still hate him."

"Then what gave Kaelie the impression that you were going out?"

"I don't…." Then it hits me. "Oh, crap. Well, he did shout something down the corridor this morning, which people may have inferred that from. You know, if they decided to read between the lines."

"What did he say?" Simon says a little more evenly, though I can tell he's still ruffled.

"See you tonight, girlfriend," I mumble, avoiding both of their gazes on me.

"Really? Well, I have no idea how they could have linked that to you two going out at all! Some people, eh? Always jumping to conclusions." Simon rolls his eyes. "And why exactly did Blondie say this to you?"

"He was just being an irritating prat, that's all." I gesture for Simon to come sit by us. "Trying to rile me up as usual."

"Promise?"

"Yes Simon, I promise there is nothing going on between Jace and I. Now will you please come sit down with us and eat?"

"Not yet. Do you also promise that if there ever were anything going on with you, no matter who else is involved, you would tell Isabelle and I first so we don't have to hear it from Kaelie or some other randomer?"

"I promise," I nod.

"Good," He says, pulling out a chair. "Because I'm starving."

The end of the day comes much too soon and before I know it, I'm making my way back to Jonathan's car. He's leaning against the bonnet, waiting for his bandmates. _Ha! And he thought I'd be the one lagging behind…_

"Have you seen Jace?" He says as I approach, fractionally tilting his head in my direction.

"My first day back at school was fine, thank you for asking. It's nice to know my big brother is so concerned about me."

"How was your day, Clary?" Jonathan sighs.

"Fine," I grin. "I just told you. How was yours?"

"Average," he shrugs. "Hey, you know your friend, Alec's sister?"

"I do know my friend Isabelle, yes."

"That's it, Isabelle. Is she single?"

"Erm…yeeeees," I mumble. Oh God, the unthinkable is happening.

"Interesting…" He smiles to himself.

"I mean, no!" I interject.

"What?"

"No, she's not single."

"But you just-"

"I lied." Isabelle is going to kill me for this. _It's for her own good,_ I tell myself. _Their kids would be beautiful but also self-centred and vain beyond belief._ Isabelle needs Simon's genetics.

"You're a strange child, Clarissa." He looks at me curiously.

"It's in the genes, Jonathan." He opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by Jordan's booming voice as the other members of the band finally join us.

"What took you guys so long?" He says instead.

"Sebastian's back cycle tyre was flat, so we had to pump it up," Jace rolls his eyes. He seems completely oblivious to the evils I'm giving him. It belatedly occurs to me that the rumour he sparked must not have gotten round to Jonathan yet, or I doubt they'd be so civil right now. Unless, he has heard but he just doesn't care. I honestly don't know which I'd prefer.

"And that took all three of you?"

"It was really flat."

"Yeah, like, seriously flat." Jordan nods.

"But-" Alec begins, looking at the other two confusedly.

"It was really flat." Jace repeats, cutting him off.

"Whatever," Jonathan shakes his head as the three boys glance at each other. "Just get in the car, we're late enough as it is."

Jordan takes the front passenger seat, leaving me the misfortune of being wedged in between Jace and Alec at the back. I shift uncomfortably in the middle seat as the other two climb in, Jace to my right. Suddenly, I freeze as Jace's hand lightly brushes my leg. I whip my head round to face him.

"What are you doing?"

"Seatbelt," He whispers, indicating that his hand is near the belt clip. I glare at him for a few more seconds before turning back to face the front. I don't know why I'm so hyperaware of everything he does all of a sudden. "You're being awfully jumpy today," He smirks. "Anything the matter?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" I retort. Yes, I am aware I have the maturity of a six year-old.

"Yes, I would actually." He turns to face me.

"You would what?" Jonathan asks, eyeing us from the rearview mirror. I decide to take advantage of Jace's momentary pause.

"I asked Jace if he would go gay for you." I smile angelically as Jace's mouth falls open.

Silence.

More silence. Then-

"EYES ON THE ROAD, DUDE!" Jordan suddenly screams, grabbing hold of the steering wheel as the car swerves towards the edge of the lane. Jonathan collects himself immediately, regaining control of the wheel.

"Sorry," he mumbles, eyes occasionally flicking back to us in the mirror. "I just…what?"

"It's a sensitive topic," I say, as Jace still stares at me dumbstruck. "Let's not discuss it right now."

"I agree," Alec grins. Since he's sitting right next to me, I'm guessing he heard the real conversation. "Let's leave this for later, when we can all look at it in detail."

"I think that's for the best," Jonathan nods. The rest of the journey home is relatively uneventful.

When we finally get home, I go straight to my room, ready to work on the new art assignment I was set today. I know, homework on the first day back. My school is without mercy. The assignment is part of a larger project based on our influences, with this section focussing on drawing the kinds of things that inspire us. I decide to sketch some of the artwork from album covers I've collected over the years, turning the volume on my IPod as high as I can to block out the noises coming from below. If I'm lucky, the band won't make it through the first round tomorrow, so I won't have to put up with this racket for the next four months. Though by the sounds of how their practice is going so far, I would be more surprised if they _did_ get in.

Let me try to explain it to you. Just imagine a donkey on heat, noticing a really hot female donkey. I don't know, maybe she's a darker shade of grey. Whatever gets male donkeys hot under the proverbial collar. Now picture that this male donkey has been tied up for years, deprived of all donkey interaction, and now he's suddenly let loose to run to her. Just imagine his cry of elation, and then put the whole scene in the middle of a busy motorway. Perhaps in India. This is how Mallard Massacre sounds. I shit you not.

Unless they're actually trying to emulate what a massacre of mallards would sound like. Because in that case, they'd be the best band in the world. It's perfect.

After a couple of hours, I notice the music coming through my headphones is all I can hear. The boys have finally gone home, so I decide to go downstairs for dinner. Dad is already home, sitting at the dining table with the daily newspaper as my mother finishes plating up the food.

"Ah, Clarissa!" Dad looks up as I walk in. "There's my obedient child! How was school?"

"Not too bad, thanks." I smile at him, taking the seat opposite. "My new art teacher, Mrs Branwell, is really cool. She's letting us focus our coursework on whatever we want."

"Oh, that's just fantastic!" Mum pipes up. "I love that they're trying to nurture your inner artiste with that kind of freedom. It's just what I'm trying to do for Jonathan! It's a shame your father and I can't make it for his gig tomorrow. Make sure you take the video camera with you, won't you dear?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I had already made plans…"

"Nothing is more important than your brother's gig, Clary," Mum interjects. "It's the first time his band will ever be performing in front of a live audience. It's a make or break moment for his self-esteem. Tell her, Valentine."

"Yes, yes," Dad says, seemingly more interested in the latest neighbourhood scandals. "Listen to your mother."

"But I have homework…" I say, desperate now.

"I'm sure you can spare a few hours," Mum insists. "For your brother's _artistic debut_."

"But it's this art assignment I was just telling you about…"

"Maybe the gig will inspire you."

"But it's about things that already inspire me!" Then I pause, as a different route occurs to me. "I was going to include Switzerland."

"Switzerland?" Dad drops his newspaper.

"Yes," I nod eagerly. _It worked!_ "The project wants us to draw on things that have influenced our lives, and I was going to focus on Switzerland as one of my topics. You know, since it is such an important part of my heritage. It means a lot to me."

"It does?" Dad's eyes light up, voice cracking a little.

"Of course it does! I may not have the white-blonde hair of the Morgensterns, but the same Swiss blood runs through these veins." I say as seriously as I can manage.

"Well in that case, you do not have to go anywhere!" Dad sets his jaw, placing his hand on mine.

"Valentine!" Mum protests. "But what about Jonathan?"

"She can support him some other time. Some things are more important, Jocelyn."

"Homework is more important than our son!?"

"Switzerland," Dad corrects her. "Switzerland is more important than our son."

I smile to myself as Mum shakes her head in disbelief. I love my father.

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**Ehehe, ah Valentine. And no, she's not going to get out of it that easily! The next chapter is the first round of the Battle of the Bands so if Clary's not there, we won't be either. It's just a small matter of deception...**

**I hope you enjoyed that! Don't worry, Sizzy will make an appearance at some point, it's just going to take some time because I'm evil like that. Also, I know there wasn't much of Jace himself in this chapter, but the next chapter will definitely make up for that. **

**As for the donkey thing, don't even ask. It was 3am. 3am is not an ideal writing time, unless you dig that kind of thing so, in that case, I suppose it is. Though I'd be extremely worried for you. Ah well, this is T-rated for a reason, kids ;)**

**Finally, the majority of you were in agreement with adding TID characters, so it shall be done! For any of you who haven't read TID (shame on you though, seriously), I promise I won't give anything of the plot away, but they won't be making an appearance in the next few chapters either way so you still have time -hint hint-**

**Once again, thank you all for reading. I've decided I'm going to try to update every Sunday and every Wednesday to make it a little more regular for you, especially for those of you who don't have an account so aren't following this. I know it can get annoying having to check through all the new stories to find updates so that is what I'll try to do. Occasionally I do tend to get over-excited though and post one early, so sorry in advance if that happens :P Especially since things are really starting to heat up now, so it pains me not to share it with you. Right, that's me done! Let me know what you thought so I know what to give you in the future. Tell me what you loved, tell me what you hated and meanwhile I'll be working hard to get the rest of the story out to you.**

**CHEERS M'LOVES! -smim out-**


	4. Chapter 4: Trying to save Simon's butt

**Five minutes to midnight. I know, I left it until the last possible moment! The thing is, I decided at the last minute to split this chapter in half because it ended up being well over 8,000 words and I'd rather keep the pace of the story consistent, instead of having one random chapter that's as long as the first three put together! As a result of this, the main part of the Battle of the Bands round won't be in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway :D **

**Thanks again to everyone who has been reading this story. Some of the anonymous reviews were so lovely I almost teared up. Seriously. It pains me that I can't reply to you, so I'm saying it here: I LOVE YOU SO FREAKING MUCH. That is all.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters, or any yellow items of clothing. Thank god.**

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**Chapter 4: Trying to save Simon's butt**

I am much more positive on the way into school the next day. Tuesdays are the only day of the week I don't have English Literature, so by default, it is now my favourite day. I still haven't forgiven Jace for that quip he made yesterday; anything that upsets Simon, upsets me. Well, pisses me off is probably more accurate. Simon's the kind of person who deals with his demons in silence. I, on the other hand, drag them screaming from the depths of hell and put them up on display. I'm hoping the fact that I've managed to get out of the gig tonight will appease him somewhat. There's nothing quite like watching films about notebook-wielding serial killers to clear the air. I scour the school entrance as Jonathan parks in his usual spot, seeing if there's a chance I could catch Simon before classes start.

I'm still looking for him when I hear the car door slam shut, and it is only then that I realise my brother hasn't spoken a word to me all morning. Now, this isn't completely abnormal behaviour. There are plenty of times when he's decided to have a sulk and ignore the rest of the world – yesterday morning, for example – but like me, he's also very vocal about what's upsetting him. He'll shout, scream, slam some doors and _then_ he'll hand out the silent treatment. Always in that order. Today, I haven't heard a peep from him, though it's clear from the tight set of his shoulders as he stalks away from the car that something's bothering him. I don't think twice as I grab my bag and run after him, despite the fact that it will probably make me late for class and miss my chance of talking to Simon. I'm not usually this bothered about my brother's feelings, but since I already feel a little guilty about having to miss –okay, _choosing _to miss- his first ever gig, harbouring a little sisterly concern won't kill me.

"Jonathan!" I yell, sprinting to try to catch up with him. "Jonathan, wait!"

He pauses momentarily and I sigh in relief, only to notice that all he's doing is pointing his car keys over his shoulder to lock the doors, and then he carries on walking. Damn him. I've always thought people look really cool when they do that, but the couple of times I've tried it's never seemed to work. Instead, I just look like a complete idiot, holding the keys in different positions over my head until the car decides it finally wants to do as it's told.

I increase my speed even more, fuelled by my annoyance until I finally manage to grab a hold of his arm.

"Jonathan!" I wheeze, struggling to regain my breath. He tries to shrug me off but I move in front to block his way. "Why didn't you stop?"

He doesn't answer me. He moves to the left, and then to the right, trying to evade me. But when he realises I'm just going to keep getting in his way, he stops and just lifts his chin into the air and away from me like some insulted upper-class woman.

"That's enough attitude from you, young man," I scold him, imitating my father's voice as best I can. But nope, he doesn't even smile. "Did you get your period this morning?" Not a twitch. "Hey, you didn't wash the dye out," I realise belatedly, noticing his hair is still very much the colour of his soul. Silence. Dear lord, I wouldn't be surprised if he did actually get his period this morning. "Please? You're actually starting to worry me now."

His head snaps to the side suddenly and I think he's finally going to talk to me, when I hear the giggling voices coming down the corridor. It's the girls who usually meet up with him every morning. Jonathan begins to shift nervously on the spot. _Bingo!_

"NOOOOO!" I throw my arms around his waist and start wailing. He stiffens against me. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE HOME TO PURSUE A CAREER IN HAIRDRESSING! I won't survive without you! Who else will braid my hair in the evenings and knit my scarves!?"

"Clarissa," he hisses, trying to push me off. I grip him tighter. "Get off me."

"BUT I LOVE YOU, JOANNA! WHAT WILL I DO WITHOUT MY BIG SISTER?"

"_Clary_," he shoves me harder. The voices behind me quieten down. "Stop making a scene!"

"Then tell me what's wrong!" I whisper so only he can hear, before continuing to sob loudly into his chest.

"For goodness' sake, woman!" He sighs, then tries to move forwards, dragging me along with him. "Are you going to walk, or will I have to carry you all the way?"

"I'll walk!" I flash him a brilliant smile, before linking my arm with his as we make our way down the corridor. If I thought the looks those girls gave Jonathan yesterday - after the gynaecologist comment - were hilarious, I don't think there's even a word for how they're eyeing him now. Ok, so I may have just insinuated my brother is transgendered. Those things tend to blow over, right? He smiles at them awkwardly and shrugs as if he doesn't know what's wrong with me. _Neither do I, bro, neither do I._

When we finally reach the next corridor, which is thankfully empty, he throws my arm off of him and glares at me. The overused phrase 'if looks could kill' comes to mind, though that doesn't quite cover what I see on Jonathan's face right now. More accurate would be, 'if looks could chuck you into a small tank full of starved piranhas and laugh as they gorge upon your flesh.' Yeah, my brother can be scary like that.

"What the hell was that?" He says, quite evenly. Shit, it's the reasonable-psycho-killer voice. I'm in trouble.

"That is what happens when you ignore the most influential woman in your life, Jonathan Morgenstern." I stand on my tip-toes attempting to look him in the eyes, despite the fact that I'm still many inches shorter. "What is up with you today? Why weren't you talking?"

"I was talking," he snips. "Dad went to work early but I spoke to Mum this morning, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm just not talking to you." Ah, so Dad was out. That's why Jonathan is still alive, despite being _un-Swiss_.

"And why is that?"

"Because you lied to me, Clarissa."

"Lied about what?"

"You know what," he crosses his arms indignantly. Seriously, have I been giving out some kind of genius vibe recently? First Simon, now Jon. I know I'm smart, but I don't know everything. Geez. Surely this can't be about Battle of the Bands? Normally he never fails to point out what a burden I am to him, so I'm sure he wouldn't be that devastated about my absence. What else have I lied about?

"Is this about Jace?" I hedge, wondering if the rumour might have reached him after all.

"Jace?" This seems to take him off guard. "What's Jace got to do with this?" Ok, so it's not that. I just shrug, deciding it's best if I don't say anything else to put my foot in it. "Whatever, I don't have time for this. We're both going to be late for registration. You just think long and hard about your actions, Sis." He steps to the side of me and begins walking away. "We'll discuss this later."

"Damn right we will, mister!" I snap, just so I can get in the last word as he heads into his Form room. Though by the looks of it, I'm not sure I want to.

As it turns out, I don't have to wait to talk to him to find out what's up. Simon gives me a pretty good clue as to what's up when he slips into the seat next to me in Biology. I turn to face my best friend, ready to give him the good news about the movie marathon, when I notice his mood has considerably worsened since yesterday.

"What's wrong now?" I ask, nudging him in the shoulder.

"Isabelle," he says, trying to look inconspicuous as the teacher glances our way.

"What has she done?" I whisper once Miss Blackthorn returns her attention to setting up the lab experiment at the front of class. She's normally a pretty chilled out teacher; I mean, how many teachers do you know that would bring in a Prince Caspian poster to put up in their classroom? Not that I'm complaining, of course. Learning about the Krebs Cycle is always a little more interesting when you can stare at Ben Barnes' flawless face instead. The trouble is, when she's hormonal, she can be a complete nightmare. With the way she was looking at me earlier, I can tell it's going to be one of _those_ days.

"She's single."

"But you know she's single."

"No, I mean on Facebook! She changed her relationship status to _single_."

"Wasn't she always single?"

"Not before last night, no. She was married to you, remember?"

"Ah yes," I nod, remembering we had in fact listed each other as our spouses. "Well, we had been having issues for a long time. At this stage, we were only really together for the kids. I kept telling her _'Isabelle Lightwood, it's either me or the full-length mirror'_ and she chose wrong." He doesn't smile at my attempt to lighten the topic. "Maybe she just decided to let everyone know she's definitely on the market? I mean, this is a good thing. Isn't it?"

"There's more," he says between gritted teeth. "Jonathan 'liked' it." Ah. So that's why he was so pissed at me; I'd told him Isabelle was taken. Though it's quite unlike Jonathan to be so upset over as small a matter as a girl. He has enough girls in the school fawning over him that he's spoilt for choice, much to my horror. Why the sudden interest in Isabelle? I didn't even know they were friends on Facebook.

"It might not mean anything," I try to reassure him, but we can both hear the lie in my voice.

"Yes, and Spock may not be half-Vulcan," Simon rolls his eyes.

"Well, he does show more human emotion than he's meant to. Especially in the newer Star Trek films. Maybe the producers were on to something?"

"Clary," Simon sighs. "This is not funny. My heart is at stake here."

"Well, you'll never know for sure unless you just _ask her_. She's not really interested in my brother. She's just interested in his hair."

"So are you saying I should dye my hair black?"

"No," I shake my head. "All I'm saying, is that as soon as I get the chance to dump a bucket of water over Jonathan's head, she'll probably lose all interest in him. It's the way it's always been with her. She liked Raphael because of his accent, Blackwell for his muscles and even _Magnus_ because of all the glitter. That is, of course, until it became obvious that she had quite a bit of competition on the Magnus front from her own brother. My point is, she's shallow. You should count yourself lucky that she doesn't see you as just another toy to play with. If you ever did get together, I'm sure she'd think twice before ending things with you."

"So you're saying I should be grateful that Isabelle isn't attracted to me?" Simon eyes me skeptically.

"I'm saying, you need to stop wallowing in self-pity and tell her how you feel. Make her take notice of you."

"Fine," he agrees, eventually. "I'll speak to her, if you get Jonathan to back off. I can't deal with that kind of competition right now."

"I'd hardly say…"

"He's hot," Simon deadpans, cutting me off. "Really hot. I'm man enough to admit that."

"Simon Lewis!" Miss Blackthorn suddenly barks, feet away from our desk. "Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

Simon and I stare at her in horror. Great timing, Miss. Really great timing.

"Errm, no?" Simon gulps, craning his neck to look at her.

"Really?" She places her hands on her hips. "Are you sure about that? Because just now, I heard something very fascinating from you. Something along the lines of 'he's hot.' I'm certain we'd all love to hear who you were talking about."

Sweat begins to form on Simon's brow as he endeavours to come up with an explanation. Really though, how do you talk yourself out of that one? "I…err…was referring more to err…the temperature aspect of…err…" He looks around himself helplessly.

"Ben Barnes," I say. Since Simon's face now closely resembles a sundried tomato, I've decided to step in. "He was talking about Ben Barnes. I mean, he is really hot. Wouldn't you agree, Miss?"

"I…well, he is a rather dashing young fellow," Miss Blackthorn gushes, despite herself. "Though I do not see how he is relevant to this Biology lesson."

"Well, we were discussing exactly what the relevance might be of his poster being on the wall of a Biology lab." I smile at her as she struggles to find a rebuttal.

"Indeed, Miss Morgenstern," she finally smirks at me, giving me a look that says 'touché'. "From now on though, please refrain from having your own little conversations while class is in progress."

"Of course, Miss." I nod, as Simon mumbles a small apology. She studies us for a few more moments before walking back to the whiteboard. Simon lets out the breath he's been holding.

"Thanks, Clary."

"You're welcome," I roll my eyes at him. "And yes, I'll help you with the Jonathan thing."

"You're the best."

"I know."

"I'll give you our first born child."

"I'd rather you didn't actually. But if I think of something, I'll let you know."

"Okay, though if it involves money, I can't do more than a tenner."

"I don't deserve you as a friend, Simon." I place my hand on my heart, then shake my head and try to focus on the classwork. Men.

The rest of the school day passes by in somewhat of a blur. I have History with Isabelle straight after Biology, though we're set an in-class essay, and then she's at some kind of drama meeting all lunch so I don't get much of a chance to talk to her. Instead, Simon and I spend lunch finalising the details for our marathon tonight. I hate how it only takes a couple of days back at school to make you feel like the summer holidays never even existed. So before I know it, I'm back in Jonathan's car, sitting between Jace and Jordan - Alec called shotgun today. Since Simon only lives a few streets away from me, I've decided to go home first to get some snacks and then I'll head over to his house for the Death Note marathon a little later. Jace is studiously ignoring me for whatever reason so I stare at a peeling spot of paint on the dashboard to pass the time. It's because of this, that it takes me a while to realise we're not heading in the direction of my house at all.

"Erm, Jonathan?" I ask, scanning the road we're driving down. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean, Sis?" He asks, a little too brightly for my liking. That should be enough to make anyone suspicious. Jonathan Morgenstern doesn't do happy. He either does sleepy or hungry, and the other emotions tend to result from a mixture of those two. Yes, horny is one of those combinations. No, I will not go into detail. "I'm driving, obviously."

"Where are you taking me?" He's going too fast for me to get a proper idea of where we are. Plus, since the majority of where we live is greenery and farmland anyway, it all looks like the same.

"Chill, Midge." Jace finally decides to acknowledge my presence by nudging me in the shoulder. "We're just popping to Alec's for a second, that's all. He forgot his guitar pick."

"Alec's? For a measly guitar pick!? But the Lightwoods live miles away! I'll be late for the movie marathon!" I glance at Alec in the front passenger seat, but he looks away, trying to avoid my gaze._ Yeah, you're not getting out of it that easy, son._

"It's his favourite guitar pick," Jace explains. "He won't play without it."

"Alec, what are you not telling me?" I lean forward in my seat, placing my hands on either side of his headrest.

"Erm…nothing?" He begins to shift around on the spot. Alec has never been a fan of confrontation, and he's usually always been the one to tell me the truth whenever Jonathan has tried to hide something from me.

"Why are we really going to your house, Alec?"

"The uh-uhm g-guitar pick belonged to my err…great-great-great-grandfather?"

"Alec Lightwood, you are a terrible liar, did you know that?"

"Don't tell her anything!" Jordan yelps, reaching forward to slap his hand over Alec's mouth. I try to pry Jordan's hand from Alec's mouth but he's too strong for me.

"Jace, deal with this," Jonathan says tiredly, still concentrating on driving thankfully.

"Sure thing." Jace leans over and grabs both of my arms, holding me to his side so I can't attack Jordan. "There there, Midge. Just calm down. We're almost at the house."

"Let go of me, Jace! Or so help me…" I turn to snap at him. _Oops, big mistake._ His face is just a few inches from mine, and oh god, he's wearing that damn aftershave again. "Let go?" I say again, though it comes out sounding more like a question. His long fingers wrap around the tops of my arms completely, trapping me against him. _Move away, Clary, _the rational part of my brain urges me. The other ninety-percent of it however is thinking, 'testosterone, yum'_. _I need to get away from him. Right now. This isn't fair. My thoughts are so jumbled and confused and he's so damn close and _who even am I?_

"That's better," Jace nods in approval, smirking at me. "Now if I let go of your arms, will you behave?"

I don't trust myself to speak so I just bob my head a couple of times.

"Good girl," he winks at me, before finally releasing my arms. It takes me a few seconds before I settle back into my seat, moving as far away from him as possible. Luckily, it's just at this moment that Jonathan pulls in to the Lightwood residence. Their house is on the outskirts of town so it's much more spacious than what I'm used to. It's actually a converted church, which gives it a slightly gothic feel, though the inside looks more like what you'd expect from a country cottage. I stumble out of the car rather ungracefully as the boys make their way to the front door. Before Jonathan has a chance to knock, the door flies open, revealing Isabelle.

"Jonathan, I'm so glad you made it!" She exclaims, ushering him through into the house. The rest of us make our own way in, deprived of her special treatment.

"You're looking lovely as ever, Isabelle," Jonathan smiles at her appreciatively. Remembering my task for Simon, I shove him out of the way before she can reply.

"Hey, Izzy?" I raise my eyebrows at her. "How did you get home before we did?"

"Oh, my last period was free so I came home early." She explains quickly before returning her attention to my brother. "Everything's ready for you in the other room. I saw to it myself."

"Brilliant!" He places his hand on her arm. "You're the best, Isabelle."

"Do you want to know who else is the best?" I step between the two of them, pushing Jonathan's arm off.

"Me?" Jace grins.

"Simon!" I glare at Jace momentarily. "And he doesn't even know that I'm going to be late!"

"Actually, he does," Isabelle assures me. "We told him everything. You're all good to go."

"Good to go?" I scrunch up my face, trying to figure out what it is they're all hiding from me. Just as I zero in on Alec in the corner, still looking like he might have a breakdown, a tall glittery figure bursts through the kitchen door. He's wearing knee-length black boots over bright yellow skinny jeans, and a bumblebee patterned jumper with two intersecting 'M's on it. Magnus Bane.

"Ah, you're all here!" He claps his hands together, taking in the scene in front of him. "Hello darling!" He greets his boyfriend, giving Alec a quick peck on the cheek. "Oh and Clary, dear," he throws his arms around my head so I'm suffocating against his chest. "It's been too long, hun. Too long."

"Magnus, what are you doing here?" I speak into his chest, but it comes out sounding more like _menuff-whaff-a-woo-dunf-uhh. _

"Why, I'm your fairy godmother of course!" He grins, cupping my cheeks. How he still managed to understand me, I'll never know. "I'm here to get you all ready for the ball!"

"The ball? What ball?"

"Well, okay, the gig. Same thing."

"But I'm not- NO!" I gasp, turning to see Jonathan smirking at me. "You tricked me!"

"Not really," he shrugs, seemingly unconcerned by his blatant betrayal of my trust. "You got into my car. No questions asked."

"That is besides the point, Jon!" I stalk up to him, prodding him in the chest. "How could you lie to me like that? I had plans tonight!"

"So do I!" He throws his arms up. "How do you think it makes me feel to know that my one and only sister would rather watch some Japanese movies – that she's already seen plenty of times before, might I add – over coming to support me in my first ever proper gig? Don't you think that hurts me, Clary?"

He keeps a straight face throughout, so if I were someone more naïve and less familiar with him, I'd probably believe him. He's a damn good actor. The thing is, I know better.

"Cut the crap, Jonathan." I roll my eyes at him. "Tell me why I'm really here, or I'm calling Dad and telling him that you think Switzerland was wrong for staying neutral during the war."

"Ha!" He scoffs. "He'd never believe that."

"You've already dyed your hair, Jonathan. Are you really willing to take that risk?"

"Ok, fine!" He runs a hand through his hair irritably. "The guy who is hosting this round of the competition knows you really well. If you're there, we're hoping he'll take more of a liking to us."

"Who is it?"

"Lucian Graymark."

"Luke? From the bookstore?" My eyes widen. I pop into that bookstore all the time at the weekends. Not once though has he ever mentioned the Battle of the Bands contest to me.

"That's the one. So will you come?"

"What about Simon?"

"He already knows. He'll be there if you are."

I stare my brother down for a few more seconds before relenting. This far out of town, there's not much else I can do anyway. "Fine," I sigh, eventually. "I'll come. But don't expect me to fangirl over you or anything. There are some lows I cannot sink to."

"What?" Jace gapes at me. "You're not going to fangirl over me?"

"No, Herondale. But if it makes you feel better, I think Aline's going to be there. I'm sure she won't mind filling in for me." I smile as his eyes widen fractionally.

"Great!" Magnus ruffles my hair. "Now that's sorted, let's get on with wardrobe!"

"Wardrobe?"

"You didn't think I was dressed up in only yellow and black for no reason, did you? Normally four different colours are my minimum. No, these are the band colours. We're all going to be wearing them." He pops into a room off the side of the hallway for a second and comes back with a three-piece outfit. He holds in front of him a black-and-yellow tartan kilt, stripy socks and a fluffy striped jumper much like his. Ah, so that's what the two 'M's stand for. Mallard Massacre. Oh dear lord.

"Oh no!" I back away from them all, heading towards the front door. "I am not dressing up for this." I will run if I have to. It may take me two hours to get home, but it will be worth it over this torture. Half the school will probably be at this gig, and I'm not going to turn up looking like some half-human lovechild from the Bee Movie.

"Jace, deal with this." Jonathan leans against the wall as Jace makes a move for me. I really wish he'd stop calling me _this_. We will have words later.

"Now, Shortstuff. We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. It's up to you."

I step closer to the door.

"The hard way it is," Jace grins, his mouth pulling up at the corner. "Just the way I like it." Then he lunges at me.

* * *

**Haha so the next chapter will _definitely _be the first round of the Battle of the Bands! And from reading what some of you have been asking for, it's going to please a lot of you. Thanks again for reading, and sorry I had to cut this short. Well, it's still longer than any chapter I've posted yet, but yeah. Till Wednesday...**

**Review if you fancy a long mushy reply from me :P Because I will do it. It will be disgustingly sappy. I may even write you a poem.**

**smim xx**


	5. Chapter 5: Trying to be Switzerland

**Gah sorry this is late! Ironically, it's because I had an extended band practice today so I didn't get a chance to work on this earlier. Anyway, here it is, the first round of the Battle of the Bands. Thanks so much for sticking with me, once again I was bowled over by the response the last chapter got. Hope you enjoy it...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters. And no, I can't sweep either. Yet.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Trying to be Switzerland**

"Smile, Midge!" Jace casually flings his arm over my shoulder. I shrug him off, none too gently. "There might be a chance your face won't crack."

"I'm giving it its daily workout," I snap. "Frowning uses a lot more muscles than smiling."

"Of course," Jace nods.

"I have to keep in shape."

"Naturally."

I cross my arms over my chest, letting my frosty gaze sweep over the people slowly filling up the venue – Devil's Tavern. Isabelle, Magnus, the band and myself are seated at the far edge of the room in our own little booth. There's still around ten minutes left before the contest starts, and Mallard Massacre are on second. Technically, they should be backstage right now, but Jonathan has insisted on watching the competing bands from the floor so he can judge them properly. As a result, that's left me wedged in between Isabelle and Jace. The only upside, is that the table at the centre of the booth is hiding the majority of my clothing from the crowds of students who have turned up.

Yes, I'm wearing the damn outfit. Tartan kilt and all. Though let me tell you, I didn't go down without a fight.

The moment Jace had leapt at me in the Lightwood residence, I stepped lithely to the side. As luck would have it, Sebastian had chosen that exact moment to arrive on his little bicycle. He had opened the front door just as Jace was on course to crash headfirst into it, so instead of jumping me, he had rammed straight into Sebastian, resulting in the two boys ending up as a tangled heap of limbs on the front porch. As everyone else was too busy cracking up at the scene in front of them, I managed to slip through the door on my left, which led to the living room. From there it should have been easy. The living room was connected to the dining room, so as long as I managed to reach that, it would have been a simple matter of going through the patio doors to the garden, and then following the path round to the front of the house. Of course, I hadn't been counting on one small obstacle. Max Lightwood. Alec and Isabelle's nine-year old brother was lounging on one of the sofas, reading the latest Manga I'd bought him, his round glasses slightly askew.

"Clary?" His eyes lit up as I entered the room.

"Hey, Max!" I grinned, despite myself. "How's my protégé doing?"

"Great!" He put the book aside and came running to me. "I just got to the part where Shikamaru…"

"Clary!" Just then Magnus strode into the living room, with Alec and Jonathan flanking him. I backed away from the three of them, heading towards the dining room. Max looked at the four of us questioningly.

"What's going on?"

"We're just playing a little game with Clary," Jonathan assured him. "Don't you worry about it."

"Ooh! Can I play?"

"Not this time, Max. This is for older kids."

I kept going until my back collided with something rock solid. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, pinning me to the obstruction.

"Is this like that game for older kids Magnus and Alec always play?"

"Not quite," a voice chuckled by my ear. Jace. _Oh, crap_. I tried to wriggle free but his arms just tightened around me. I could feel his heartbeat pounding away, level with the top of my shoulder.

"Though, I'm sure it looks a lot like that game…" Jonathan snorted.

"Max, go upstairs." Alec cut him off, face bright pink.

"But I was talking to Clary…"

"_Now,_ Max."

"Wait a second!" Jonathan placed a hand on Alec's shoulder. "Maybe Max could help us, after all."

"Yes!" Max nodded his head eagerly. "I can help!"

"You see, Max, Magnus has spent a long time making this lovely outfit for Clary." Jonathan indicated towards the abomination in Magnus' hands. "But Clary doesn't want to wear it, and that will make Magnus very upset. And if Magnus is upset, he won't be able to buy you that Death Star Lego set you've been wanting for Christmas, will you Magnus?"

"Alas, no," Magnus shook his head dramatically. "I will be too overcome with grief to venture out of the house and go to the nearby shopping centre, which has it on sale right now."

"Maybe if you ask her nicely, she might listen to you?" Jonathan winked at me before giving Max a pleading gaze. Using the kid. Sneaky little bugger. He knew I'd never be able to resist those bright blue eyes. I lasted ten minutes, if that.

And so, because of that nice little piece of emotional blackmail, here I am, clad in the ensemble from hell and ready to pollenate. I'm not alone though, of course. Isabelle is dressed identically to myself, and by that I mean she's wearing the _exact_ same sized clothes; so where the kilt comes down to my knees, on her gazelle legs it looks more like a fashionable mini-skirt. The jumper is still awful, but for some reason unbeknownst to us mere mortals, Isabelle Lightwood manages to pull the whole thing off. At first I couldn't comprehend why she so willingly agreed to wear such an atrocity of an outfit, but the way she's leaning into Jonathan now – who is conveniently sitting on the other side of her – says it all. It doesn't help that Simon hasn't turned up yet either, though Isabelle has assured me he'll be here.

The boys, on the other hand, haven't been made to suffer the same fate. Jonathan somehow managed to convince Magnus that though the band appreciated his stylistic advice, it was important for them to still be able to express their individuality on stage. This 'individuality' has resulted in all five of them wearing their usual black-on-black, but with one accessory to honour the band colours. Alec is wearing a yellow scarf, Jordan has a wristband, Sebastian is wearing a bright yellow belt and Jonathan and Jace both have yellow Converses. Seriously, whose idea was the yellow? This is the least hardcore-looking 'metal' band I've ever seen.

"What's bothering you, Shorty?" Jace looks down at me again. I don't understand why he's suddenly so interested in my wellbeing. He's probably just sulking over the fact that he didn't get to sit next to Jonathan.

"Right now? You are." I turn away from him, watching Isabelle and Jonathan instead. Jonathan is still glancing around the room, trying to scope out the competition and who their fans might be, while Isabelle seems to be desperately attempting to capture his attention.

"Really?" Jace leans back, resting his head on his folded arms. "I think you and I both know that's not true."

"What makes you so sure?"

"_Please,_ do you think I haven't noticed the way you act around me? The only thing about me that could possibly be bothering you is my otherworldly beauty."

"You've got me, Jace. I just can't resist you." I shake my head, though my heart leaps slightly at his words. Have I been acting differently around him? I can't explain it, but I know something definitely has changed between us; whether that's the way I am around him, or he is towards me, I'm not yet sure. For one thing, I've never been so mindful of him in the past. Sure, I had my little phase of crushing on him when I hit puberty, but that passed as soon as I was reminded of what an idiot he was. Plus, it's pretty hard to take a liking to someone who is constantly making fun of your appearance. So what's happened?

In the last couple of days, I've been intensely aware of him anytime he's been in any kind of proximity to me. That stunt he pulled in the car is a perfect example; in the past, that would never have been enough to shut me up, but what happened instead? I totally lost control. I became completely overwhelmed by his manly presence and momentarily even forgot who I was. I shudder at the thought. Jace Herondale will not get the best of me again. He's an egotistic maniac who gets his kicks from making everyone around him feel inferior, but not any more. I won't give him the satisfaction of turning me to mush, but I won't rise to his arguments either. I will be neutral, indifferent. Like Switzerland. My father would be so proud.

Just as my internal resolution has been set, Luke walks onto the stage. He's wearing one of his typical flannel shirts with loose jeans. He taps the microphone a few times to grab everyone's attention.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the initiation round of the South-Eastern Battle of the Bands contest! I am the primary judge for tonight, Lucian Graymark, though some of you may know me from my bookstore on the high street."

"Woop!" I cheer, though no one else joins in. Luke looks over in my direction and gives me a quick salute before turning back to face the crowd in front of the stage.

"Enthusiastic praise," Jonathan nods at me. "Good thinking, Clary."

"I don't know," Jace disagrees. "I think she maybe could have gone with two _woops_."

"I wasn't doing it for you," I huff.

"We have three acts tonight, hoping to make it through to the official contest," Luke continues. "First up we have Queen And Her Court, then it's Mallard Massacre, and finally we'll be ending with Ragnor Didn't Fall." There are a few cheers from some girls up front when Mallard Massacre are mentioned. Dammit, their fan club's here. "In order for a band to make it through, they must receive a minimum of five votes from the audience, with at least two bands having to qualify. If they are successful, they will be competing in the official first round of the Battle of the Bands contest, which will be taking place on Halloween. So without further adieu, allow me to present to you, Queen And Her Court!"

The crowd cheers as three figures walk on to the stage. An imposing redhead takes to the microphone holding a guitar, while an elflike male sets up his own guitar to the right of the stage. The drummer is shockingly familiar: Kaelie Blue from our year at school.

"Come on, let's get closer," Jonathan rises up out of the booth, pulling Isabelle along with him. Reluctant to leave the two of them alone, I follow them to floor, the others trailing close behind me.

"Helloooooo Devil's Tavern," the singer purrs into the microphone. "My name is Seelie Queen, this is Meliorn on lead guitar, Kaelie on drums and we are Queen And Her Court. We're going to be playing you a couple of our own songs. This one's called, _Lying in the Pond._"

"Seelie Queen?" Isabelle turns to me, eyes wide. "Isn't she that girl who left school a couple of years ago after being caught doing…you know what…with you know who?"

"Oh yes," Jace grins appreciatively as they begin to play.

"She did the thing with Voldemort?" Simon asks, walking over to us. He's joined by Eric, Matt and Kirk, his bandmates.

"What took you so long?" I punch Simon in the shoulder, ignoring his remark. "And why didn't you tell me what was going on?"

"Isabelle made me promise not to tell," Simon gives me an apologetic smile. "What was I supposed to do?"

It's hard to hear him over the band playing. Seelie's vocals are high and ethereal, but they contrast greatly with Kaelie's upbeat drumming and Meliorn's edgy guitar. It's like if you stuck Evanescence and Sum 41 in a blender, added a hint of Linkin Park and maybe a dash of paprika. I can't quite decide if they're any good or not. Seelie struts around on stage, occasionally invading Meliorn's personal space, whining about some guy who made her jump into a pond. Perhaps it's some elaborate metaphor I'm just missing the point of? The response from the crowd is hard to gauge. They clearly have some fans who have come to see them, judging by the group of people in flowing pastel-coloured robes who are swaying side to side at the edge of the crowd. There's about six of them, so if they all vote, the band will make it straight to the next round.

As the song comes to a close, half the crowd begins to cheer. The other half are clapping half-heartedly, though it's clear they're not massive fans of the band. Either that, or they're not massive fans of Seelie. She has quite the reputation back at our school.

"Right, I've seen enough," Jonathan grabs Jace by the shoulder. "We can take them. Let's get backstage."

As the band retreat behind the stage door, Maia – Jordan's girlfriend – comes over to us. Maia's in my art class so we've grown pretty close over the years, and when she and Jordan started going out back in Year 10, I ended up seeing even more of her. The days she doesn't work down at the local Chinese Takeaway, she tends to come over to watch the band practice. I know, she's crazy.

"So, are you nervous?" She asks me.

"Nervous? Why would I be nervous?"

"You know, for the band. They've been working so hard for so long. What if they don't get in?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, I guess you could say I'm nervous." Nervous that they _will_ get in. It would go straight to their heads, I'm sure of it. Queen And Her Court start playing their next song as we speak. This one is apparently called, _I'll stab you in the back repeatedly. _Lovely.

"You don't want them to get through, do you?" She says, smirking at me. How does she do that? Read my mind, I mean, not the smirking part. I'm well versed in that particular art. The look on my face must give it away. "It's okay, neither do I."

"But Jordan's your boyfriend…"

"Exactly. This stupid band thing is keeping him away every evening. The sooner it's over, the better."

"I'm glad we're in agreement."

"Let's hope Ragnor Didn't Fall are really good, because by the looks of it, this band isn't all that popular."

"That's because Seelie did the thing with Voldemort," Simon winks at her, joining in on the conversation.

"She did what!?" Maia's jaw drops.

"Ignore him, I tend to." I push Simon away. The second song ends at that moment, with the crowd a little more enthusiastic this time. As Seelie and her minions push their gear off stage, Luke comes back.

"Let's give it up for Queen And Her Court!" Another cheer. "Next up is a band who many of us have been waiting many years for to finally get out of the garage!"

"And the closet," Simon adds.

"Make some noise for Mallard Massacre!" An insane mixture of screaming and squealing starts up as soon as the boys walk on stage. Isabelle is acting like the biggest fangirl of all, yelling 'yay Jonathan!' as my brother settles down at the drum kit. Jace is the picture of confidence, slinging his guitar over his shoulder and winking at some of the girls closest to the stage. I think one of them might have actually passed out. This is not good. They've never even played in front of a live audience before, yet it's clear that a lot of people are here just to see them. _It's okay_, I tell myself. _They haven't heard them play yet. _That'll put them right off. I grin at the thought.

"You look really creepy when you grin to yourself like that," Simon points out.

"Your mum looks creepy." I reply. I know, I really need to get some better comebacks.

"Hi guys," Jordan says, a little shy. Either that or he's just scared of all the hungry-looking fangirls who have just flocked to the barrier. I wouldn't blame him. "We're Mallard Massacre, and we're also going to be playing a couple of our own songs. This first one is called, _Touch my Mango._"

I struggle to contain my laughter. Oh dear, the girls really have no idea how much of a disappointment they're in for. The band start playing, sounding pretty much as they always do when I have to put up with hearing them at home. I wait for someone to start lobbing tomatoes at them or something, but to my surprise and horror, a mosh pit opens up in the middle of the crowd. Simon grabs Isabelle and pulls her back to where I'm standing with Maia so she doesn't get caught up with it.

"I don't understand," I shake my head in disbelief. "How can they possibly be enjoying this!?"

"They're sexy, no one cares that they're bad," Simon shrugs.

"Ok, Simon," I turn to him. "You really need to stop describing them as _sexy_ or _hot_. Honestly, it's quite disturbing."

"Have they always been like this?" Isabelle looks as if she doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

"Yep," I pat her on the shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry, friend."

"Sorry for what?!" She looks at me quizzically. "They're amazing!" Then she launches herself into the circle mosh pit, arms flailing.

"What is happening?" Maia looks just as horrified as I do. "Is everyone else just hearing something completely different to us?"

"I don't even know," I stand stock still, watching the carnage unfold around me. The end of the song is greeted with wild cheers from the majority of the female population of the audience.

"Thanks!" Jordan raises his arms above him. "This next song is called, _Howling at the Moon_ and I'm dedicating it to my beautiful girlfriend, Maia!" There are some groans from the fangirls as they realise he's taken, while Maia buries her head in her hands.

By the time their set ends, our faith has considerably lessened. Regardless of whether Ragnor Didn't Fall have many fans or not, it looks like Mallard Massacre will be getting through to the next round. I can count at least seven girls wearing some item of yellow clothing. Unless they're just in Hufflepuff cosplay. A girl can hope, right? Luke announces that there'll be a slight delay before the last act comes on, so I make my way to the bar at the back of the room and ask for a lemonade.

"Allow me," a long slender hand brushes mine aside, handing the barmaid a fiver. It's Meliorn from QAHC. "Hi, I'm Meliorn."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," I smile at him. "I'm Clary, by the way." He brushes aside the long silvery hair cascading around his shoulders, before replying.

"Oh, I really did. It's very nice to meet you, Clary. So you're here for Mallard Massacre, right?" He says, eyeing the logo on my jumper.

"Definitely not!" I shake my head side to side violently. "They kind of kidnapped me, actually."

"Having to force people to support them, eh? That's not good musicianship."

"My thoughts exactly," I agree. He smiles down at me, his eyes twinkling in the faint light. I notice that his features are rather perfect. It's like someone just picked this guy out of a Tolkien novel. "You guys were really good, by the way." Crap, why did I just say that? Okay, it's not like I could have said, 'you guys were mediocre at best,' but still. "I really liked your…err strumming technique?" _Oh god, Clary._ Just stop talking. Right now. "It was really…fluid."

"Thank you," he says. So apparently that's a compliment, after all. "Perhaps I could teach you more about it sometime? Over lunch, perhaps?"

"How about over my dead body?" Someone interrupts, standing just out of my line of sight. Okay, who am I kidding? Not just someone. I know that voice. Jace.

"And who are you?" Meliorn looks disinterestedly, staring over my shoulder.

"Her brother," Jace says, stepping around me to stand in between us. "Now if you don't mind, I have something to discuss with…my _sister_."

"Sure, I was just about to leave anyway," Meliorn grabs his own drink and backs away.

"Give me a ring sometime, won't you?" He says. "I'll give your tall black-haired girl-friend over there my number." Then he disappears into the crowd.

"What the hell was that?" I demand of Jace, hitting him upside the head. It's not like I was that interested in Meliorn anyway, I prefer guys whose hair isn't longer than my own, but what gave Jace the right to barge in like that!? If I didn't have such a splitting headache right now, Jace would actually be dead right now.

"I was saving you, obviously!" Jace looks indignant.

"Saving me?" I yell, incredulous. "From the gorgeous guitarist who bought me a lemonade?"

"Hey, that's my title!" He pouts. "And yes, I was. He's an awful guitarist, by the way. I bet he can't even sweep." Jace glares into the crowd. "Wait, did you just say gorgeous?"

"Err, yes, I believe I did." I try to lower my voice but the look on his face just gets me so riled up.

"Legolas over there? Gorgeous?"

"You said it yourself! He looks like Legolas, what's not to love? I cannot believe you, Jace! You always have to ruin everything!"

"I…" Jace struggles for words. "Well…."

"Just don't talk to me," I grab my lemonade and storm off. So much for being Switzerland.

Just then, Luke comes back on stage. "It seems we've had a slight problem with the last act of the night, Ragnor Didn't Fall. Someone's stolen Ragnor's song book, so he's too distraught to come on stage. Therefore, unless we have any acts who are willing to fill in, Mallard Massacre and Queen And Her Court will automatically go through."

No. This can't be happening. After everything Jace has done, I will not let him breeze through like this. I spot Simon standing by the door with his friends, and an idea occurs to me.

"Simon! There's my bestest friend ever!" I throw my arm over his shoulder.

"No, don't even ask, Morgenstern. I know exactly what you're thinking." He turns his head away from me.

"Simon, please! We just need one more act to tip the balance! Seelie has a lot of enemies, so I'm guessing people will just vote for Mallard Massacre because of that. But my brother and Jace also have their fair share of enemies. There's probably a lot of people on the fence. You'd be the lesser of three evils."

"Clary, The Banister Complex is not ready for this!"

"You've played at Luke's bookstore before! That's one more gig than Mallard Massacre has ever had." I urge, trying to give him my best puppy-dog eyes. "Wait, The Banister what now?"

"The Banister Complex. It's our name."

"Is that even a thing?"

"Yeah!" Eric nods, taking notice of us. "To slide or not to slide. You feel me?"

"Eric!" I smile at him. "Would you say that The Banister Complex is sounding decent at the moment?"

"Dude, we're awesome. Like, all the chicks totally dig us."

"So, you'd have no problem with playing right now?"

"Clary, no!" Simon interrupts. "I'm not doing this."

"You said you owed me a favour, Simon," I remind him, remembering how I'd agreed to keep Jonathan at bay for him. "I'm cashing in on your end."

"You can't do that!" He gapes at me.

"Simon! Do you want Isabelle or not?"

"Of course I do!" His purses his lips. "I mean, I think I do."

"Just think how proud she'd be of you for doing this. Going up against Jonathan. She might finally see you in a different light. This is reckless, impulsive, _dangerous_."

I can see that my words have finally gotten through to him as he watches Isabelle across the room, latching onto Jonathan's arm. She's twirling her hair shyly with the hand that isn't holding him. His jaw sets.

"Fine." He pushes his glasses further up his nose. "We'll do it."

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**And so The Banister Complex is in! I didn't want to go into too much detail regarding the songs, because some people (myself included) aren't big on having endless lines of lyrics in the middle of a chapter. Who knows, maybe I'll actually write lyrics for the individual songs and put them up separately at some point :P **

**Oh and for those of you who don't know, sweeping is a guitar technique. In my opinion, it's the _most_ advanced guitar technique. I can't do it yet either, but I'm working on it!**

**Anyway, hope you guys liked that! Let me know what you thought of the format of the chapter. There's only four rounds in the contest in total (this one included) so we won't have many chapters so focussed on the music like this, but yeah, I hope I managed to keep it interesting for you. The next chapter is going to be the fallout of that little spat Jace and Clary had...we're definitely coming close to the other genre this story is listed as. It won't lose the humour obviously (I can't write a serious chapter to save my life!) but things are getting pretty interesting on the Clace front.**

**Thank you guys for reading! Oh and thank you so much to all of you who reviewed last time. I loved hearing about your own personal experiences and I'm shocked at how similar this story is to some of your lives! You guys do make me laugh (and almost cry - good tears, mind)! I love each and every one of you!**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx**


	6. Chapter 6: Trying not to harm Mr A

**Exciting day, eh? You get an update and the twelfth doctor is announced! Thank you so much to everyone who left a comment for the last chapter. I didn't think it was possible for you guys to be even more amazing, but you've outdone yourselves yet again! Let me know if you never got a personal reply from me (I tried to get back to you all as quick as I could), and thanks again to my guest reviewers. I love hearing about the things that make you laugh and what you liked most about the chapter. I've never been one of those authors who expects a certain amount of reviews per chapter, gets upset when they don't receive them, and then even hold their chapters hostage. For me, it's always been enough to know that there's at least a few people out there getting something out of this story. The world can be a pretty crappy place at times so it means a lot to me to know that I'm making someone out there smile. So yes, thank you. You all brighten up my days for sure. Oh and major props to those of you who have been getting my TID references. There's probably a few so far and they were pretty subtle, so yeah. It's good to know they didn't go to waste!**

**Right, that's my allowance of sappiness used up for the day :P Here's the next chapter...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI, its characters, or any of the other fandoms/bandoms I've referenced in this chapter. Though I will marry Zack Hansen one day. He just doesn't know it yet.**

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**Chapter 6: Trying not to grievously harm Mr Aldertree**

I keep my eyes on the floor as I make my way to English Lit the next day. Seeing Jace this early in the morning is not good for me right now. Things would be awkward enough if all I had to deal with was the incident with Meliorn, but volunteering The Banister Complex was the last straw. Since I was the one who had asked Luke, he was more than happy to let Simon's band join the competition at such a late stage. Plus he had a little soft spot for them anyway due to the fact that his bookstore was home to their very first gig.

They played two songs. I am positive Simon had written the first song himself, since it was called 'Klingon to false hope,' and the second was one that Eric dedicated to his girlfriend of two days. It was called 'Tap you like a faucet.' Needless to say it was a profound and tear-jerking masterpiece. Since the band were not originally planning to perform, their one and only fangirl, Maureen, was not present but we just about managed to scrape enough votes to send the boys through to the next round. The votes were cast in secret so Maia and I managed to get away with voting for The Banister Complex, with Blythe, Kate and Ariel – Kirk, Matt and Eric's respective girlfriends – also voting to ensure they received their minimum of five to pass the initiation round. In the end, Luke announced that The Banister Complex had received nine votes, so there were at least four crowd members we were able to sway. Queen And Her Court received fifteen, and Mallard Massacre unfortunately got twenty-two votes.

Despite their victory, Jonathan and Jace were absolutely furious with me for encouraging Simon's band to play. Jonathan got over it after he realised The Banister Complex had very little chance of beating them – or so he'd like to believe – but Jace wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the night. It's not like I was exactly complaining, since I was still pissed off at him for what he said to Meliorn, but the idea that he felt justified in being angrier than I was just irritated me even more.

As I walk into the classroom, I notice Jace has already taken a seat in the same place he was last time, though I can't imagine why. If he's angry at me, why doesn't he just sit elsewhere? Unless he's only doing it to piss me off which, now that I think about it, would be a pretty feasible explanation. Well, two can play at that game – he will not scare me away from my favourite table. I stride up to the table with a renewed sense of purpose and set my books down two seats down from him. _Oh yeah, burn. _He doesn't look my way as I pull out a chair, or even as I noisily empty out my pencil case and start rearranging my stationery. He just keeps staring at the desk, fists clenched in front of him. Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm not trying to get a reaction out of him at all. I'm Switzerland, remember? People just underestimate how frustrating it can be to have a large pencil case with everything haphazardly thrown in. I mean, who knows when there might be a situation calling for the emergency use of a protractor? Even in English Lit. And who will be there to save the day? Me. I can reach forward, locate the appropriate section I've set aside for plastic stationery and fulfil their protractor needs. At least, this is what I tell myself.

Neither of us says a word to the other as the rest of the class files in, Aline taking the seat between us.

"Hey, Clary," Aline nudges me as she sits down. I nod in response, mumbling a small 'hello.'

"Hi, Jace!" She grins turning to him, chirpy as ever. Obviously, he doesn't repl-

"Aline! It's good to see you!" _Wait, what!?_ "How have you been?"

"Not too bad," she seems slightly taken aback by his enthusiasm. Indeed. "I'm sorry, I couldn't make it to your gig last night. How did that go?"

"Oh, no problem." He smiles at her, leaning into his palm. _What is he playing at?_ Not that I care, of course. Switzerland. "It was okay, actually. We got the most votes so things are looking promising."

"That's brilliant!" Aline claps her hands together. "When's the next round?"

"Halloween, you'll be there right?"

"Halloween? Damn it, I have this thing with…"

"Please?" Jace juts out his lower lip slightly, pleading with her. Dear lord, just stop. Please stop. _Think Swiss thoughts, Clary._ _Swiss cheese, Lindt chocolate, the hadron collider, Morgenstern hair, blonde, Jace, Jace's lips. JACE'S LIPS ARE NOT SWISS DAMMIT! _Oh god, and now I'm thinking about his lips again.

"Errm…." Aline is just as struck as I am. "Of course, yeah, I'm sure I can get out of it."

"Excellent," he smirks, eyes flicking to me for the first time. I can't help but think he looks a little like Mr Burns from The Simpsons. Yeah alright, that's definitely enough to make me look away. Luckily, Mr Aldertree chooses to enter the room at that moment, forcing the three of us to face towards the whiteboard. He begins scribbling something down about a descriptive writing project we'll be working on for the next couple of weeks.

"Right, children!" He turns to face us, a big smile on his face. _Children._ Please, I'm going to be seventeen in a week. "I have a very exciting new project to tell you about. Yes, very exciting indeed! To improve your creative writing skills, you're each going to prepare a chapter detailing the life of a character. It can be in any style you want, and whichever genre. The twist is, the protagonist in your story is going to be one of your classmates!" I don't think his definition of exciting quite matches mine. I shift closer to Aline subconsciously. She'd be pretty easy to write about. Her thoughts are plain for anyone to read, and she's also fairly predictable. "Obviously, in order for this to be possible, you'll have to spend quite a bit of time with your partner, analysing their habits and getting to know them. I've compiled a list of basic questions you should put to each other, and I'd like them to be completed by next lesson, so that does mean you will have to arrange a time to meet up outside of class." That's fine, Aline sometimes sits with us at lunch anyway. That is, when she's not too busy trying to get the attention of her latest crush. "And finally," Mr Aldertree continues, "You should know that I've already put you in pairs, and there will be no switching!"

Ah. So that's why he was looking so happy earlier. Mr Aldertree may come across as being a happy-go-lucky kind of guys, but inside he's a twisted sadist. Okay, so that may be a little harsh. He's a slightly twisted sadist.

"I'm now going to read out the pairs, so please take a seat next to your partner once I've called all the names out." He picks up a scruffy looking piece of paper from his desk and clears his throat a few times before speaking. "Aline Penhallow and Helen Blackthorn." _Oh crap. _"Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn. John Smith and Rose Tyler. Zack Hansen and Luke Holland." There are only twelve of us in the class, which means there is a thirty-three-point-three-recurring percentage chance that I might end up with Jace. By the way he's rocking back and forth in his chair, I can see Jace seems just as unhappy with the odds as I am.

"Peter Capaldi and Clara Oswald." My heart sinks as he calls Clara's name instead of mine. _What is my life?_ Jace stops rocking. "Which leaves Jace Herondale and Clarissa Morgenstern."

"But, Sir!" We both raise our hands at the same time.

"No switching," Mr Aldertree shakes his head. "I had already made that very clear."

"But why _Jace_?" I moan, indicating helplessly in his direction. "Aline and I already know enough about each other to write some decent essays! Don't you want a well-written piece of work? Or if not Aline, then I'll work with Helen and Aline can work with Jace."

"I'm good with that," Jace says, leaning forward.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind working with Jace!" Aline nods eagerly.

"I said, no switching." Mr Aldertree puts the piece of paper down. "I thought I was actually doing you two a favour! Jace didn't seem to know anyone in this class on Monday except for you, Clarissa."

"Exactly!" Jace looks as desperate as I feel. "But isn't the whole point of this to get to know your partners? I know Mi- _Clarissa_ very well. Too well, if you ask me. It'll be boring."

"Well if that's the case, it shouldn't take you very long to get your assignment done. I've said it three times already, and this is the last. No switching. Aline, go and sit with Helen."

My shoulders droop as Aline gets up, leaving just Jace and I alone on the table. The look he gives me is cold enough to preserve the dinosaur eggs from Jurassic Park.

"Go on then," Mr Aldertree indicates for the two of us to move closer. "I said to sit next to your partner."

"I am sitting next to him," I shrug. There's no one in between us anymore.

"Not nearly close enough for my liking," he tuts. "Go on Jace, move a seat closer to Clarissa."

"Why can't _she _move?" He whines.

"Because it would not be polite to make a lady get up, now would it?"

"I think that's Jace's point, Sir," I smirk. "He doesn't see why he should have to get up, being a lady and all."

"Actually, my point was that there are no ladies at all on this table," he mutters, but moves out of his chair to come and sit right next to me anyway, albeit reluctantly. Mature.

"That's much better," Mr Aldertree claps his hands together. "Now, for the rest of the class, I just want you all to finish up the chapter from the book I gave you to read on Monday. You can collect a question sheet for the project on your way out."

"But, if we're not working on the project, why do I have to sit next to Jace?"

"Because you're going to be spending a lot of time with him over the next two weeks, so you might as well get used to it! Plus, it means you all have no excuse for not arranging a time to meet later."

The upside to this pairing, is that I know I will have no problem with meeting up with Jace outside of school. He practically lives with us these days. The downside? We may end up killing each other before these two weeks are done.

Since we both know we'll be seeing each other at the end of the day, there's no need for us to speak at all. In fact, not a word is spoken between the two of us until we reach the house after school. I spent the majority of lunch venting to Isabelle and Simon about my predicament, as well as discussing what was to be done from now on. Other than that, we had a chance to reflect on the previous night's events. Simon was actually pretty grateful that I'd volunteered the band for the contest, reasoning that the attention from fans may work to make Isabelle jealous.

On that front, despite the fact that Jonathan had finally got around to washing his hair, Isabelle was still droning on about him all throughout history. Apparently he had invited her round to watch their band practice tomorrow, which she was treating as a date. Ah well, at least it wasn't somewhere completely private. I'd have to come up with some excuse to invite Simon round tomorrow too. There's no way I'm not upholding my end of the bargain. Isabelle and Jonathan will not end up together if it kills me. Well okay, I wouldn't go that far, but I'd be willing to get seriously hurt for it. At least, emotionally. She'd also given me Meliorn's number that he'd handed to her yesterday after Jace had shooed him off, and told me she 'approved' so I should call him as soon as possible. Before, I wasn't even considering taking him up on his offer of lunch, but after the events of today, I'm feeling a little more impulsive.

I stare down at my phone screen now, trying to decide whether to press 'send' or not. I don't know why I'm still hesitating. I've been sitting in my room for the past hour as Mallard Massacre have played on below, still unsure about what to do. On the one hand, Meliorn is a nice enough guy. He bought me some lemonade, which automatically put him in my good books. On the other hand, Jace really didn't seem to like him. I don't know if that's because he knows something I don't, or whether it's purely personal. So who do I side with? A guy that I've known for almost my entire life, though he can be a complete prat at times, or a guy who I've only just met but is basically a guitar-playing Legolas? Why am I even hesitating? _Guitar-playing Legolas vs Jace rod-up-the-arse Herondale? _I hit the button to send the message to him, just as there's a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I shuffle off of the bed quickly.

"Me." Jace says, his voice slightly muffled.

"Me who?" I say, because really, he shouldn't expect me to recognise his voice that easily.

"Me who is about to rip your Merlin poster off of the door if you don't let me in."

"NO!" I run to the door, yanking it open. "Don't you even dare, Herondale."

"So you did know it was me," he smirks.

"What are you doing here?"

"The assignment, remember?" He waves a piece of paper in front of my face. "You forgot to pick it up on the way out of class, but luckily I pay more attention."

"Oh, that," I gulp, completely forgetting for a moment that we were meant to ask each other the questions Mr Aldertree had arranged for us.

"Yes, that. So can I come in? The sooner we get this done, the quicker I'll be out of your hair."

"Whatever," I shrug, moving out of the way. "What kind of questions are they?"

"The kind only someone like Mr A could possibly come up with. Designed for maximum humiliation." He hands me the piece of paper so I can look over it.

My mouth drops.

Oh god.

I am going to kill that man.

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**So this is where I've decided to let you guys have a say again! A lot of you have some amazing ideas so I thought I'd put your imaginations to use! I was going to include the questionnaire session in this chapter, but then I thought it'd be a lot more fun if I could include some from you. So here's a task for you! Come up with the most random/embarrassing questions you can think of (though within limits, Mr Aldertree is a professional after all haha) and I'll pick my favourites to include in the next chapter. Obviously, if you just want to leave a normal review, that's fine too :P You people are brilliant, so I'm actually really excited to see what you've got for me! The next chapter update is Wednesday, so try to get them in asap, though I'm not setting an official deadline. If something incredible comes up Wednesday morning, I won't rule it out completely. It just makes it easier for me if I have time to prepare!**

**Oh and if you do get any of my references throughout this story, let me know guys! I love putting in subtle little hints (and some not-so-subtle ones) so it's great when people pick up on them xD**

**Thank you once again for taking your time to read this. Till Wednesday...**

**BRACE YOURSELVES!**

**smim xx**


	7. Chapter 7:Trying to forget this happened

**Hey! I'm struggling to get over the massive response the last chapter got, and I hope I've managed to live up to your expectations with this one! It was actually a lot harder than I thought once I'd started writing, because some of the questions were deep enough that I don't even know if I'd have a decent answer for them myself. So trying to answer them from a character's POV was pretty difficult, but hopefully they do them justice :P Thanks so much to all of you for your comments and ideas. I couldn't use all of your questions because I still had my own to put in, and there were obviously time constraints, but I've credited those I hadn't thought of and ended up using below, though thank you to everyone anyway. They all helped to inspire me in some way, so I really appreciate you all taking such an interest in this. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters. I just put them in awkward situations and laugh in an evil fashion.**

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**Chapter 7: Trying to forget this happened**

I sit cross-legged opposite from Jace on the floor, eyeing the piece of paper that lies between us.

"You first." He says, sliding the sheet slightly closer to me.

"Why me?" I nudge it back towards him.

"Because if you're asking the questions first, that means I have to answer first, duh. I thought I was doing you a favour." He pushes it back to me.

"Fine," I snatch the sheet off of the floor and straighten it out a few more times than necessary to delay the inevitable. The first few questions aren't too bad actually, it's the ones at the end I'm dreading. There's an 'about me' section, and then there's an 'about your partner' section. Man, this would be so much easier if I wasn't still so pissed off at him. "Ok, here goes." I clear my throat. "If you were an animal, what would you be?"

Jace purses his lips as if deep in thought.

"I'd probably say a lion."

"Wow, that's so original," I roll my eyes, scribbling his answer down in my notebook.

"What's wrong with a lion?"

"Well, you know, it's just the obvious choice. With your wild mane of blonde hair and those eyes…"

"It's not just how they look, it's what they're like as well."

"Lazy and territorial? Yeah, okay I can see that."

"Proud and fearless, actually," he huffs. "Fine, what do you think I would be then?"

"A badger," I say, surprisingly without much hesitation.

"A _badger_?!" He splutters.

"Yeah, a badger. They're all cute and fluffy to look at, but before you know it, they've dug a million holes in your garden, destroyed the vegetable patch you've been cultivating for months and left their crap all over the place. Oh and they sound really annoying." Yeah, you can tell this isn't personal at all.

"You think I'm cute?" He says, raising an eyebrow. Cute? Did I- _damn._ Trust him to pick up on that despite the insults. _I also said you leave your crap all over the place!_

"I was talking about the badgers," I insist.

"But you said I would be a badger…"

"Next question," I cut him off. "What colour do you think best describes you, and why?"

"Wait, aren't you going to answer the first question? It'd be much quicker if we just did it at the same time."

"Alright, if I was an animal, I'd probably be a duck. They just float around in the water all day having bread thrown at them." Oh yeah, that's the life. Just make that bread pizza and I'd happily transform into a duck right now.

"A duck," he shudders, though I can't imagine why. "Yeah, I'm not going to argue with that one." Then he mutters something under his breath that sounds a little like 'bloodthirsty little beasts,' though I can't be sure.

"Now the colour question," I gesture for him to continue. "Actually wait, let me guess. You're going to say gold, right? Because you're precious and as radiant as the sun."

"Actually," he smirks, "I was going to say black, but I like your one better. I _am_ as radiant as the sun. What about you, Midge?"

"Green," I say.

"Because of your eyes?"

"No, because green is cool." I reply, though I'm slightly impressed that he's managed to not think about himself long enough to notice the colour of my eyes. "Green is just so natural and free! It can be really vibrant and funky fresh at times, but it can also be dark and menacing when it needs to be, like 'hey, you're all going to die in this forest horror-movie style.'" Jace just kind of looks at me like I've lost the plot. I take that as my cue to move on.

"If you could marry a fictional character, who would you marry and why?"

"Does it specify marriage?" Jace spreads himself across the floor, leaning on his elbow.

"Yes, it says _marry. _Not, if you could sleep with a fictional character."

"Damn," he sighs. "Well, in that case, I'd probably pick Cinderella. She seems the domestic type. I could just go about my daily business and come back to a nice, clean house with food on the table. We'd have to have a word about those rats though. I don't do rats."

"You're so deep," I shake my head at him. "And they're mice, not rats."

"Details," he shrugs. "Your turn."

"I'd marry Aragorn," I smile wistfully. That's one sexy ranger right there.

"Aragorn? I thought you had a thing for Legolas?" He seems a little perturbed.

"Legolas is nice enough to look at, but the question was about marriage. I couldn't marry a guy who looks like he spends more time in front of the mirror than I do. Aragorn is just pure man. And the way he sweeps up Arwen at the end of the Return of the King…oh yeah…" I drift off, fantasising about Aragorn.

"Ok, that's enough of that!" Jace sits up, subconsciously ruffling his golden locks. "Hurry up with this."

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," I chuckle, scanning the sheet for the next question. Oh god, so this is where it deteriorates. "Who was your…err…first crush?"

Jace blanches.

"Can we skip this one?" He shifts around nervously on the spot. I would have been happy to oblige, but his obvious discomfort has peaked my curiosity. Jace Herondale never gets nervous.

"Nooope," I drawl. "Who was it Jace?"

"I think it's best if you don't know…" He bites his lip.

"Do you want to fail this project, Herondale?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I want to do."

"_Jace_, come on, this isn't meant to be easy."

"Okay fine, I'll tell you. But you have to promise not to freak out."

"I promise…" I say immediately, though then begin to regret it. The look on his face tells me this isn't going to be easy to hear. But who could Jace possibly be so ashamed of crushing on? He's normally pretty open about the girls who have caught his eye; I've accidentally overheard Jonathan and him talking about such things on many an occasion.

"Just bear in mind, I was pretty young and I was still at that age where I thought girls my own age were annoying so, yeah. Try not to judge me too hard."

"Spit it out, Jace," I snap, wanting to get it over and done with.

"Jocelyn," he whispers, so quietly I almost don't catch it.

"Jocelyn?" I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "I don't know anyone at our school called Jocelyn. Who is-" _Oh dear lord. No. No no no. _He smiles at me apologetically. "MY MOTHER!?" I yell, standing up. Jace scrambles up off the floor, holding his hands out to me.

"Keep it down! You promised not to freak out…"

"That's before I knew you had a crush on _my mother_! Oh my goodness…" I pace around the room, looking at anything but him. "How old were you?"

"Does it matter?" He runs a hand through his hair irritably.

"How old were you?" I say, louder this time.

"I don't know, like, fourteen maybe? I had just hit puberty. You know what Jonathan was like back then." _Fourteen?_ I would have been thirteen at the time. So when I was just starting to develop a crush on him, he was too busy lusting after my mother?! Oh god, just when I thought this could not get any worse…unless…

"Do you still…"

"Heavens, no!" Jace stares at me wide-eyed. Well, that's something I guess.

"Honestly?"

"Yes, honestly. Now can we please agree to never speak about this again?"

"One condition," I say, raising my index finger. "Stop acting all butthurt about what happened yesterday. If you can move on from that, I can try my hardest to bury this in the deepest crevices of my mind."

"Agreed!" Jace nods, relieved. "Now stop pacing, and sit back down." He coaxes me back to the floor and I sit down across from him once again, though this time it's even more awkward than before. "One thing, though. I still need your answer." He waves his own notebook at me. I didn't even realise he'd brought one.

"Fine, whatever," I shrug. My one's not quite as bad as that; thankfully, Jace was my second crush. "My first crush was Alec."

"My Alec?" Jace freezes.

"Yes," I snap. "He was always a gentleman around me and he called me by my name. Have you got a problem with that?"

"Nope," Jace shakes his head quickly. "No problem." He jots a few notes down in his book, then puts it down when he's ready for the next question.

"Good. Next question. When was the last time you cried?"

"Pass."

"Jace, you can't just keep asking to skip questions!"

"Pass." He turns his head.

"Jace, just answer the bloody question or so help me, I will tell Jonathan you had a crush on our mother."

"You said you wouldn't tell!" He gasps.

"I said I would try to bury it in my mind. I can still tell Jonathan before I do that. He'll be much more weirded out than I was, I can promise you."

"You are a demon from hell," he mumbles. I wait as patiently as I can. "Okay fine, so I was playing the LOTR: Return of the King game on PlayStation a couple of weeks ago, and I was on the bit where I have to defeat the King of the Dead." Well, that definitely wasn't what I was expecting. "Normally, Jonathan and I do it together on two-player, which is much easier, but I thought I'd have a go for myself. So anyway, he was too strong for me so I kept on dying over and over again. Then finally, it must have been on the fiftieth time that I had repeated the chapter, I just about managed to defeat him with a little bit of life left and I was just so happy; but the thing is, I'd forgotten to turn the subtitles on so I missed the bit afterwards where Aragorn shouts 'everything collapses!' and you're meant to run, so I didn't run fast enough and then A BLOODY ROCK FELL ON MY HEAD AND KILLED ME!"

"So let me get this straight, you defeated the King of the Dead in single-handed combat, only to be killed by a falling rock?"

"Exactly," Jace nods once, looking like he's still very much disturbed by it.

"And you cried?"

"Yes."

"Ahahahahaha!" I can't hold it in any longer so I burst into a fit of giggles, rolling onto the floor.

"It's not funny, Midge." Jace crosses his arms. "How could I face myself after that?"

"Well…" I gasp out between my laughter. "I…doubt…your face…could have…done…anything…" Has it always been this hard to breathe? "After…being crushed…by…a…ROCK!"

"I hate you." He throws his notebook at me, but it doesn't make it any less funny. "Fine, when was the last time you cried then?"

That shuts me up. My laughter dies off immediately as I get myself back into a seated position. It's not something I like to think about. Every time I picture the scene, tears spring to my eyes again, despite the fact that it's been a while since it happened.

"Last week," I mumble. "I was re-watching some of the episodes on my box set and I got to the one where Ten regenerates, and I bawled my eyes out."

"Where Ten re…" Jace looks confused. "Are you talking about Doctor Who?" I answer in the affirmative. "And here I was, thinking it was something serious!"

"You cried over a video game!"

"Touché," he shrugs. "Are we on to the next section yet?"

"Yes," I sniff. We're onto the second and last section – 'about your partner.' "What was your first impression of me?"

"Short, ginger, annoying, short," he lists the adjectives off on his fingers.

"You said short twice," I slap him upside the head.

"It was a big part of my first impression. So yeah, that was it basically. And yours of me?" He looks rather smug with himself.

"Skinny, yellow…" I begin to list the words off on my finger as he did but he cuts me off.

"Yellow?!" He looks genuinely insulted.

"I was like three," I wave him off. "I didn't know what blonde was. Your hair was yellow, Jonathan's was white. _Anyway,_ as I was saying: skinny, yellow, mean and…no, that's about it. I wasn't really interested in who you were."

"That's good to know," he chuckles. "How many more questions left?"

"Two," I gulp. And these are the worst. I'll begin with the lesser of two evils… "Name three things that you love about your partner."

"Ah, that one." Jace says, stroking his imaginary beard as if having extreme difficulty with the task.

"It's not going to kill you to say something nice about me, Jace," I deadpan.

"Isn't it?" He fakes surprise. "Oh, in that case, number one would be your height. I love that you're so small because it makes me feel like I'm a giant."

"I'm touched," I say, inflectionless.

"Number two would be the fact that you're so easy to rile up. I can always count on you to give me a reaction." I give him none in response. He laughs. "And number three is your art. I think it's pretty cool how passionate you are about it." I look to see if he's joking, but he seems genuine enough. Wow. I didn't think he was even capable of being sincere. "And what do you absolutely love about moi? Remember, you have to limit it to three."

"Damn," I say, packing in as much sarcasm as I possibly can. "That's going to be really hard, but I'll try my best." Since he wasn't completely serious with his answers, I decide I don't have to be a hundred percent honest with him either. "Firstly, I like how you spend so much time with Jonathan, so it means he's around less to bother me."

"Anytime," Jace smirks. "But it's love, remember? Not like."

"Secondly, I _love_ how I have the power to irritate you, through bruising your ego." He glares at me. "And finally, I love that aftershave you've been wearing lately. It smells good." I don't know what makes me say that last bit, but I guess it's not as bad as confessing to fancying his dad or anything. Not that I do.

"Aftershave?" Jace looks confused. "What aftershave?"

"The one you're wearing right now."

"But I'm not wearing any aftershave…"

"If you and your partner were the last two people on earth, how willing would you be to continue the species with them?" I spill out the next question before we can get any deeper into that conversation. I do not want to think that I just confessed to loving his natural manly odour. That can't be right. It's disgusting and _oh_. I suddenly remember why I was dreading this last question.

"Pretty willing," Jace shrugs. "It'd be my duty to mankind and who better to be the father of the new race than yours truly?"

"I don't see why we should even have to answer this," I say, trying to ignore the weird fluttery feeling I'm getting in my stomach. _Pretty willing_. "Not all of the pairs doing this project contain one girl and one boy, so it's irrelevant."

"But this pair does," Jace points out. "So what's your answer? Would you help to spread my seed?" He waggles his eyebrows at me.

"Stop, Jace, oh my god." I hide my face.

"It's a simple question. We should be fruitful and multiply, if you're willing…"

"Stop," I repeat, hoping he can't see how red my cheeks must be right now. What is wrong with Mr Aldertree!?

"Clary, just answer the question. I answered them all. You can't skip reme…"

"FINE, I'LL REPOPULATE EARTH WITH YOU!" I shout, frustrated.

"You'll do what!?" My bedroom door flies open, revealing my father. _Shit shit shit._ How long has he been listening? "There will be no repopulating involving my daughter anywhere!"

"Dad!" I jump up at the same time as Jace. We move away from each other, making the situation look even more suspicious. "We were just discussing our English…"

"I don't care about the English!" He booms, stalking towards Jace. Jace steps backwards until he's up again the wall.

"No, Dad!" I move in between them. "I mean, English Literature. _The class._ This is our project…"

"Your project is to _repopulate the earth!?_" A vein on his forehead pulses visibly. Jace whimpers. "What is wrong with the world? This would never have happened in Switzerland!"

"_Dad!_" I wave the assignment sheet in front of his face. "It's all hypothetical, look!"

"Hypothetical breeding is just as bad as breeding!" He thunders, brushing me aside. "I do not want any boy thinking of you in that way until you're at least thirty!"

"Sir, I promise nothing happ…" Jace begins, but my father cuts him off.

"But it was going to happen, wasn't it!? I heard you both agree! I trusted you, Jonathan! I've let you into my house day after day…"

"IF THE WORLD ENDS, DAD!" I thrust the paper in his face again. This time he stops to look at it.

"What is this?"

"Our homework. We had to ask our partners these questions, that the teacher compiled himself, might I add."

"Your PARTNERS!?" He glares at Jace again.

"_In class_," I huff, frustrated now. "We were put in pairs for this project, and Jace is my partner."

"Is this so, young man?"

"Yes, it was just for class. That's it. We don't even speak outside of class, really."

"Her bedroom is outside of class!"

"We didn't have time to arrange to go somewhere else, Dad." I say, seeing that he's starting to calm down. "I was working on my art in here. You know the project I was telling you about? The one where I was going to include Switzerland? Well, I was so focussed on that that I didn't want to go anywhere else. So Jace came up here."

"Really?" Dad doesn't look convinced this time. "Show me this artwork."

"Of course," I lead him over to my desk where I show him a painting I've done of the Swiss flag. Admittedly, I spent about two minutes on it last night, just so I had something to show him if a situation like this ever arose. It seems to do the trick though. He places his hand on his heart, muttering the first few lines of the Swiss anthem.

"Okay, Clarissa." He places his hand on my shoulder when he's done. "I'm sorry I doubted you, child. But in the future, if there are any other projects to be worked on in your bedroom, the door stays open. Do you understand me?"

"Absolutely, Dad." I smile at him.

"That's my girl," he pats me on the head. "Is your little English project done now?"

"Yes, we just finished," Jace says, gathering his stuff together.

"Good, then I'll see you out." Dad waits for Jace to leave the room before shutting the door, glancing at the painting one more time as he does.

I slump down against the bed, exhausted. The Swiss may have saved me one more time, but I can't be sure it will work again. For now though, I'll just pass out on my bed and try to forget this evening ever happened.

* * *

**I'm sure she's not the only one...**

**Thanks so much for reading, I really do hope you liked this one! I have to admit, that whole thing with the King of the Dead actually happened to me. I didn't cry when I was killed by the falling rock, but I was pretty damn close. I texted my best friend afterwards and her response was pretty much the same as Clary's, so credit to her for the 'rock crushing my face' joke.**

**As for the questions, thank you to GirlInHerOwnWorld for the 'when was the last time you cried?' question and Iron Leopard for the fictional character one! And a massive thanks to Bookworm3673 in general for giving me ideas even before this and just being awesome :D Thanks to the rest of you as well who have been PM'ing me and reviewing with all your wonderful thoughts! I appreciate every single one of you, and if I could mention you all on here I would, but it would end up being an essay instead of an AN!**

**Thank you again. If you're reading this, you're incredible.**

**Next chapter on Sunday and the plot thickens...**

**smim xx**


	8. Chapter 8: Trying to ward off Jonathan

**Greetings to you all! First off, I just want to quickly say thank you to madelynrichardss! She gave me the idea for the first impression of your partner question in the last chapter but I was a noob and completely forgot to credit her so sorry, and thanks!**

**Next up, iuybruyghfxgdetrdecutrs I checked the traffic for this story and I cannot believe how many people are reading this from all over the world. Shout out to my readers in Guam. I didn't even know Guam existed so WOW. The hilarious thing though is that I have no readers from Switzerland...who knows, maybe it's a good thing! It's weird, I was never even particularly interested in Switzerland before I started writing this fic (my obsession lies with Germany - was los!?) but now I freak out a little every time something Swiss-related is mentioned. Help, I'm turning into Valentine! So yeah, if my stats are lying and there is someone Swiss or even partly Swiss out there, say hi! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or any of its characters. Or any Swiss readers apparently -sobs-**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Trying to ward off Jonathan**

You know those times when you can just sense that a situation is about to spiral out of your control? It's as if everything is moving in slow motion and you have this feeling that something is going to happen, something big, but you're powerless to do anything about it. You're not completely sure exactly what's about to unfold, but you can just see the looks on the faces of the people around you and even though you desperately try to stop yourself from talking, the words keep spilling out; but then as soon as you manage to stop yourself, it's always too late. Much too late. The damage has been done. Your words have been spouted out into the universe, irretrievable and unforgettable. And then comes the inevitable aftermath.

Well, this is how I feel on Thursday evening when I stand between the two guys on my front porch. The boy to my right crosses his arms, a smug smile slowly forming on his face. Clearly what I said has pleased him, though if he knew the truth of my intentions, he probably wouldn't be so happy right now. The boy to my left is a whole different story. His features, normally so indifferent, are contorted with pain. He clenches and unclenches his jaw, struggling to contain himself. And me? I just want to disappear. Though I could also really do with a coat right now.

_Earlier that day…_

The tension between Jace and myself has considerably lessened since our little bonding session last night, so I have no qualms with sitting next to him in English Lit again on Thursday morning. I've had to change some of his answers a bit just in case Mr Aldertree decides to check that we did our homework, which, considering how creepy he is, seems pretty likely.

Predictably enough, the first thing Mr Aldertree does when he enters the classroom is demand to see Jace's work and mine. I hand edited sheet over to him reluctantly. He 'hmm's and 'aah's a bit as he scans what I've written, pausing every so often to squint at Jace over his spectacles. Jace just grins toothily in response.

"Well," he coughs. "I don't know what you two were making such a fuss about yesterday. You seem to have worked together just fine."

"Yes, sir," I nod. "It turned out that Jace was particularly good when it came to talking about himself. Trying to get him to shut up was the issue."

"Not for your father it wasn't…" Jace mumbles so quietly that only I can hear. I glance at him sideways.

"Quite," Mr Aldertree sniffs. "Good work, anyway. This will help you in today's class." Then he raises his voice so the rest of the class can hear. "Today we are going to be focussing on how to create an interesting and varied plot. You will be conducting a short exercise using prompt words from the homework you completed last night, to form a short story together. The first of the pair will pick any word or phrase from either of your answers and write it down, then the second will continue the story from there, writing just one sentence. In this way, you will both alternate writing sentences, thereby completing the story together. Your sentences can be as long or as short as you like, as long as you add at least one word when it is your turn. Mr Starkweather from the History department gave me this idea, and I think it will be an excellent way of utilising your imaginations and teaching you the importance of being pragmatic when writing a story. It can be useful to have a set plan beforehand, but you need to be prepared for whenever the plot doesn't work quite the way you want it to, so you have to learn to adapt around it. I've provided you all with paper, so as soon as you're all ready, you may begin."

Jace gathers a few sheets of paper from the end of the table and drops them between us, a sly smirk on his face. _Oh crap._ I've played games similar to this with Simon and Isabelle in the past and they've always ended up being either extremely disturbing or downright hilarious. I have a feeling though that Jace is going to be making this as hard as he possibly can for me.

"You can go first," he offers oh-so-graciously.

"You're too kind," I take my time finding a pen from my pencil case, before picking my prompt word. I decide on 'badger'. There's not much he can do to ruin that one.

I write the words 'The badger,' on the sheet, indicating for Jace to continue. He chooses the words, '_was deep in contemplation over the segregation in society.'_ His handwriting is so much neater than mine it's almost embarrassing, though it doesn't compare to the embarrassment I'd experience if anyone asked to see our finished piece, because five minutes later, our story goes something like this:

The badger _was deep in contemplation over the segregation in society. _He just couldn't understand why _he wasn't allowed to wear frilly underwear in public. _His friends had no idea that this was in fact his desire and often questioned his sexuality, _though they had absolutely no need to because he was perfectly straight. _Or so he thought. _No really, all of the female badgers were completely attracted to him. _But that wasn't the question, was it? _He had no idea what they were talking about. _Whether other female badgers were attracted to him had no bearing on his own sexuality. _So you admit other female badgers are attracted to me? _Since when did this become a first-person story? _I feel weird speaking in third person. _Okay, since when did you become a badger? _Since last night, apparently. _Really? _Yes. _How strange, maybe you should see a doctor?

You can see why Jace and I shouldn't really be allowed to work together. The rest of the lesson proceeds in a similar fashion, with each story somehow ending up being about Jace, despite how varied the prompt words are. By the time we leave class, I find myself seriously doubting whether he's ever had a single thought about anyone other than himself. Luckily, my lunchtime meet-up with Simon and Isabelle helps to clear my brain of Jace, though also fills it with undeniable panic.

"Hey, Clary?" Isabelle says as I take a seat at our usual table. She's gazing into her pocket mirror, running her fingers through her hair. Simon sits opposite her, surreptitiously glancing at her between bites of his sandwich.

"Yes, Izzy?"

"Do you think I should dye my hair blonde?"

Simon almost spits his sandwich out. "Wha-what!? Why would you do that?" He splutters.

"I don't know," she shrugs, moving the mirror closer. "I just feel like maybe it's time for a change. I've had black hair for my entire life, people might get bored."

"Isabelle, are you actually serious?" I stare at her wide-eyed. I have a niggling feeling that I know exactly what this is about, but I can't bring myself to admit it. "Black is your _natural_ hair colour. And besides, since when have you cared what other people think about?"

"I don't," she insists. _I just care what Jonathan thinks,_ I finish her sentence in my head. "I just care what Jonathan thinks." Wow. Okay, so I wasn't expecting her to actually say it. Simon looks like someone just put a stake through his heart.

"Look, Isabelle," I say softly, trying to reason with her. "If you really want Jonathan to notice you, dying your hair blonde isn't the way to do it. He prefers black hair, trust me. If it weren't for my father, his hair would permanently be black."

"But your dad likes blonde hair, right?"

"I'm going to be sick," Simon gasps. True enough, his face actually is turning a little green.

"Not in that way," Isabelle giggles, patting Simon on the head. "Silly Simon. I mean, he would be more likely to accept me if I were blonde, right?"

"The only thing that would make him more likely to accept you, is if you were Swiss."

"Swiss? What's Switzerland got to do with anything?"

"My dad's family is Swiss."

"But I thought you guys were German?"

"We're from the German-speaking part of…okay, this is completely irrelevant," I stop myself. "My point is, impressing my father isn't going to make Jonathan like you any more. If anything, it'll put him off. Jon's a rebel, he loves pissing Valentine off."

"Yeah, I know," Isabelle sighs dreamily. Simon's sickness must be contagious because I suddenly have an urge to vomit as well. "Simon, you're a guy, right?"

"Thanks for noticing," Simon grumbles, glaring at the rest of his uneaten lunch.

"What do you think would make me look more attractive to you?"

"What?" Simon looks taken aback.

"Iz, maybe you shouldn't…" I say, but she ignores me.

"Hypothetically, if I were trying to get your attention, what would I have to do?" She seems completely oblivious to the discomfort he's in.

"Nothing, Isabelle." He gets up abruptly. "There's nothing you can do." He grabs his lunch off the table and stalks off back towards the main school building, leaving the two of us in silence.

"What's his problem?" Isabelle looks a little offended.

"Who knows? It's probably because his mother wouldn't let him pre-order the PS4," I lie. She lets it go then and starts to ramble on about the latest town scandals, as I have my own internal conflict. As she moves on to the topic of the last thing Seelie Queen was caught doing, I make my mind up. I love my brother – _eww I can't believe I just thought that _– but I also love Simon. If Jonathan is his problem, it's up to me to fix it.

I sigh in relief as I walk to the car after school, noticing that Jonathan is alone. It would've been much harder to have a serious conversation with him if the rest of the guys were around. As soon as he sees me, he sits in the driver's seat and begins to rev the engine.

"Aren't you going to wait for the others?" I say, getting in on the passenger's side.

"They're coming a little later," Jonathan explains. "Mr Mortmain gave Jace detention for mouthing off about how one of his inventions wouldn't work in Physics, so he's stuck here until five."

"But that's just Jace, what about the others?"

"Isabelle had some kind of last minute drama meeting again so since they're both coming over later, Alec also decided to stay behind and catch up with some work in the library with Jordan. Magnus is going to pick them all up on his way back to work and bring them over. So it's just you and me, Sis. And Sebastian, obviously, but he takes forever to cycle so he might as well be coming at the same time as them."

"Has his aunt still not let up on that?" I snicker as Jonathan pulls out of the school car park, spotting Sebastian on his bike behind us, struggling to keep up. Within about thirty seconds he's disappeared from my view completely. Poor kid. "I mean, how would she know the difference?"

"Apparently she can smell the petrol on him every time he gets a lift, so he's just given up now."

"_Smell_ the petrol!? How does she do that?" I ask in disbelief.

"Who knows?" Jonathan shrugs.

"She's French." We both say together, then burst out laughing. Once our hysteria has died down, we fall into a comfortable silence, until I remember exactly why I was so eager to talk to him today. Moments like this are so hard to achieve with my brother that I almost don't say anything at all. But then I remember the look on Simon's face as he walked away from Isabelle today and I know it must be done.

"Hey, Jonathan?"

"Who else is in this car?" He scoffs. I ignore him.

"What's going on with you and Isabelle?"

"What makes you think there's something going on?" His features betray no emotion, so I can't tell if he's deliberately trying to hide something from me, or if he's just indifferent. So little seems to be of any import to him these days, except for the band of course, that the latter is likely enough.

"For one, you invited her to band practice tonight."

"Actually, she invited herself." This doesn't surprise me. "I mentioned we practice every night and she wanted to come see us play."

"And you agreed?"

"Well, why not? I think it's cool when people take an interest in Mallard Massacre, so if they want to see us practice, why would I have a problem with that? It's not my fault that some people…" he looks pointedly at me, "…are less interested than others."

"So there's nothing going on?"

"Not as far as I know. Why do you care anyway?"

"Well…you know…I'm just looking out for you…" _Great thinking, Clary. He's completely going to believe that._

"Looking out for me?" He barks out a laugh.

"Isabelle isn't exactly a long-term relationship type of girl…I don't want you to get hurt." _You're on a roll here, girl. Keep digging the hole. Just keep digging._

"Well, I'm not exactly looking for a long-term relationship so…"

"She's just using you!" I blurt out. "Yeah, she's using you to make someone else jealous."

"Who?" His voice drops an octave. _Is that the other side of the world I can see?_

"Errm…Simon?"

"_Lewis!?"_

"The one and only…" I look out the window so I don't have to face him.

"She's using me to make _Simon Lewis_ jealous?"

"Yes!" I say, indignantly this time. What's wrong with Simon? "He's an intelligent, funny, caring guy."

"Are you sure you're not the one who fancies him?"

"Yes…" I roll my eyes. I actually fancy your bes-_no one._ I fancy no one. Apart from famous people and fictional characters. Otherwise, no one.

"Fine," he groans. "Any girl who would rather be with Lewis isn't worth my time anyway. She can have him without my help. Taking a picture with a Star Wars figurine would probably be enough to make him jealous."

"Thank you," I sigh. My work here is done. Though I resent the figurine comment. She'd have to at least take a picture with someone in Han Solo cosplay or something. Simon is not that easy.

Deciding I might as well try to finish all my work before the band-based racket begins, I start on my homework as soon as we reach the house. I'm halfway through sketching some Swiss scenery – I can't just offer up that badly painted flag again in future crises – when my phone starts to beep. It's a text from Meliorn. Damn, I completely forgot I'd texted him yesterday before working with Jace.

It reads:

_Hey, Clary! I'm so glad you got back to me, I was a little worried that protective brother of yours wouldn't let you out of his sight long enough to text! Anyway, I'm in the area and I was wondering if you wanted to come out for a coffee? Let me know! _

_Melly xx_

Melly!? That's my first thought. The second thought on my mind is, 'how the hell does he know where I live?' until I remember whose sister I really am. To be honest, all you have to do is ask anyone within a five-mile radius where the house is with the band that sounds like donkeys and they'll tell you. Okay, so only I call it the band that sounds like donkeys, but my point is, they have a reputation. I try to figure out a way to let him down gently, but then I hear one of the doors slam downstairs and the distorted feedback of amps being turned on. The band is here.

Then suddenly, they begin to play and my decision is made. I'd much rather go out for a coffee than be subjected to this for the next couple of hours. Besides, how awful could it really be? It's not like he's asking me to see a film or anything. It's coffee. Coffee is good. I like coffee. I text him back saying I'll come, and he replies within seconds saying he's just down the road. Right. So that's a little creepy, but he did say he was in the area. I decide I look decent enough in what I'm already wearing, so I grab my purse and make my way downstairs just as the doorbell rings.

Smoothing out my top, I take a second to breathe. It just occurs to me that I've never really been on a date before. _But it's not a date, _I remind myself. _Just coffee with a friend who is not really my friend. _I place my hand on the door handle and fling it open so I don't have time to think about what I'm doing.

"That was quick," I remark, walking straight into Meliorn's chest. "Sorry," I take a step back and crane my head up to look at him. Unless Meliorn's hair isn't naturally straight and he's recently cut it, I'm pretty sure that's not Meliorn. Maybe-not-Meliorn reaches inside the door to turn on the floodlight. I squint as the porch lights up. Definitely not Meliorn. Jace.

"Hey there, Midge," Jace grins. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"I was err…I thought you were already inside?" I try to hide my purse behind my back. I don't know why, but for some reason I really don't want him to know where I'm going.

"Yeah, I forgot my guitar tuner and Jonathan won't let me touch his," Jace rolls his eyes. "The door shut behind me though."

"Oh right, I see." I look down, hoping he won't notice the mobile vibrating in my hand. "You better come in then," I move aside to let him in but a voice stops him in his tracks.

"Clary! There you are!" Meliorn leaps up the stairs to the porch, noticing Jace at the last moment.

"Meliorn?" Jace asks, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for Clary," he smiles, gesturing for me to come outside. I take my chance while Jace is still frozen to squeeze past him, shivering a little as the cold evening air hits me.

"Wait," Jace reaches out to grab my arm. "This is what you were doing? You were going out to meet _him_!?"

"We're just going for a coffee, that's all," I try to brush Jace off but he grips me tighter.

"You can have a coffee inside!"

"With you guys screaming away in the next room? I think I'll pass." Again, I try to move but he holds me back.

"Hey man, relax!" Meliorn steps closer, palms outward. "I'll take good care of your sister, I promise. We're only going to the café down the road."

"My _sister_?" Jace blanks for a second before he remembers the night of the contest, where he'd claimed to be my brother when 'saving' me from Meliorn. "She's not my sister."

"She's not?" Now it's Meliorn's turn to look confused.

"Look, I don't want you going out with him," Jace says to me between gritted teeth.

"It'll be fine, Jace!" I try to reassure him, but I can't keep the anger out of my voice. "I'll be back soon."

"Let me rephrase that," Jace breathes heavily, releasing white puffs in the freezing air. He looks a bit like a fuming dragon, smoke pouring out everywhere. "You're not going out with him."

"I'm _not?_" That's the last straw. "Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can't do?!" I push him off roughly and he lets go in surprise. "You don't _own_ me, Jace! For goodness' sakes, you don't even like me! You've only put up with me all these years because I'm Jonathan's sister…"

"Ohh you're _Jonathan's_ sister!" Meliorn says.

"Not now, Meliorn!" I glare at him, before turning back to Jace. It seems that the shock of being rejected by me has worn off and now anger has taken its place. "Like I said, you've only put up with me because of Jonathan and Jonathan is also the only reason I've put up with you!" I let all the frustration that I've accumulated towards him over the years pour out in the space of a couple of minutes as I continue to yell at him. "You never think about anyone but yourself and you know what? I've had enough. I've had enough of pretending I get on with you because the reality is, I can't stand being around you! You're irritating and annoying and you _piss me off so much_. Every time I finally think we can get along, you just mess it up and ruin everything and I don't want to do it anymore! I hate you, Jace! I hate you!"

I struggle to catch my breath as my outburst comes to a finish. I don't even know where half of that came from. It's true that I've been frustrated with him for the last couple of days, though I have other theories as to why that might be. I know I don't hate him. I don't. It was just in the heat of the moment that I said that, but as I look up at his face, I realise it's too late. I open my mouth to apologise but I know that nothing I say will make him forget those last few words.

His expression is heart-breaking, not so unlike Simon's face earlier. There's no anger there anymore, just pain. But he covers it up straight away, donning a stony mask. Meliorn, on the other hand, is smiling slightly.

"Jace, I didn't…" I decide to try to apologise anyway but he ignores me.

"Go." He says, his voice cold. Then he turns away, shutting the front door, leaving me alone with Meliorn.

"So…" Meliorn says after a minute or so. "Coffee?"

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**Muhahaha...sorry that was a little more angsty than I'm used to. It all has a reason though, I promise, so don't break out the pitchforks just yet. She is just a hormonal teenager after all though, so a little anger is allowed, I think. Plus, the next chapter is a lot more light-hearted so hopefully that'll make it up to you!**

**Regarding the next chapter, one of you already guessed something like this might happen, and I can indeed confirm that there will be a sleepover of sorts. So yes, just imagine the band, Clary and maybe a couple of other people in the same house for one night. I wasn't lying when I said it will be a lot more light-hearted. I hate angst but sometimes a little bit is necessary on the road to romance and self-realisation -cue mystic music- so it's all heading to a good place!**

**Thank you again for reading! Before I forget, for those of you who wanted it, I've put a link on my profile to my tumblr. I will warn you though, it's about as crazy and varied as I am...so make of that what you will. Anyway, that's me done! Tell me what you thought, even if you do want to gather the townsfolk! I'll be back on Wednesday...**

**smim xx**


	9. Chapter 9: Trying not to jump Isabelle

**Sup homies! Sorry to keep you guys waiting, some of your comments were hilarious for the last chapter! There's a pretty even split between the number of you who back Clary up and those of you who just want to hug Jace. I'm both, to be honest. Jace was a prick, so we can't just excuse him because of his gorgeousness!**

**Anyway, I just thought I'd warn you in advance, this chapter got a bit long again so I had to split it. That does mean that most of the hilarity and relationship-fixing will be taking place in the next part, but this one is still important as you will see! Onwards...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or any of its characters. I just make them suffer...**

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**Chapter 9: Trying not to jump Isabelle**

It's been a week. Seven whole days. Roughly a quarter of the lunar cycle has passed since the day I shouted at Jace, and instead of things getting better, they've just gotten worse. I tried to make an effort with him, but he was having none of it. And when I say tried, I really did. It wasn't my normal 'I'll try to get some work done tonight, but I know I'll just end up on the internet,' or 'I'll try to hide my straighteners from Jonathan, but I can't be bothered to get out of my chair.' I honest to Gandalf tried.

I'd felt so awful once Jace had closed the door on me that day that I barely even spoke to Meliorn all throughout our not-date. I had a splitting headache so I'd decided to go for a coffee with him anyway, but the entire evening consisted of him talking about his band or how great his hairdresser was, while I just sat there slowly sipping my Cappucino, replaying the scene on the porch over and over again in my mind. By the time Meliorn had walked me back home, the band had already left.

I'd stayed awake for the majority of that night, struggling to make sense of everything. I felt guilty about Jace, yes, but there were other things as well that were beginning to occur to me. I've been known for getting carried away in certain situations, and it's often only later once I've had time to analyse things, that I realise my mistakes. What I'd said about Isabelle had clearly struck a chord with Jonathan, so that was one more thing that I had to feel terrible about. I knew there was no way Isabelle could really be interested in Jonathan as a person, but I'd never actually thought about it the other way round. That would have to be something to reflect about later though. My primary concern at the time was still to fix things with Jace.

The next morning I'd walked into English, ready to apologise, only to find that Jace had gone to sit at the back of the classroom. It was such a simple gesture, but it hurt all the same. Even after our little spat at the gig he hadn't moved away from me, so for him to just act like I didn't even exist proved that I'd upset him a lot more than I'd thought I that. Mr Aldertree had taken the day off sick, so the substitute teacher had just set us some more reading and reviewing work to do. During the lesson I decided to give Jace the space that he so clearly wanted, taking my usual seat next to Aline, but he'd already packed up and left the second the bell rang so I didn't get a chance to catch him afterwards.

On Friday evening and over the weekend, Mallard Massacre had conveniently relocated practice to the Lightwood residence. Jonathan had put it down to Dad being at home, but I had my suspicions. On the one hand, this meant I finally had some peace and quiet, but on the other hand, I still didn't get to speak to Jace.

On Monday, I decided to take things to the next level. I swallowed my pride and came into school clothed in black and yellow. Yes, I'd willingly stooped to wearing the fangirl outfit. Jace had looked up momentarily in English, back to his usual seat now that Mr Aldertree was present, but he still didn't say a word. I'd tried making small talk with him throughout the class, but he'd merely grunted or shrugged at times in reply. Luckily, the work that we'd been set was less partner-based than before and more focussed on the creative writing aspect so things weren't as awkward as they could have been. Again, as soon as the bell rang, he was up and out of his seat like a shot. The boys were back to practicing in our house, but I didn't manage to catch any time alone with him. Of course, my attempts hadn't gone completely unnoticed. Jonathan was shocked to see me wearing the band colours and he wouldn't believe me when I said it was because I was finally ready to support him. He said he'd sooner believe that I had actually been accepted into Hogwarts. Apparently I was weird enough. Pah.

By the next Thursday, I'd had enough. I'd lost count of the amount of times I'd tried to apologise to him but he'd never listened long enough to understand my side of things. I was angry and frustrated, and when you're angry and frustrated and hormonal on top of all of that, you say things. It's life. But he had no right to continue to treat me this way. At the end of the day, his behaviour hadn't been completely perfect either. For some unknown reason he was being ridiculously possessive, and he had to be put back in his place. I wouldn't even let Simon or Isabelle control me like that. Of course, I could have chosen a better way to say it, but I wasn't going to keep punishing myself for something that was equally his fault. That day in class, I was different. I didn't make an effort to speak to him outside of anything that was work-related and left just as abruptly as he had.

I did the exact same thing today. Isabelle assures me as we walk out of our last class together that I'm in the right. I'd explained the whole situation to her the day after, and she'd sympathised with me from the very beginning. She'd never had much patience for Jace either, despite him being so close to Alec. So if my friends support me, I should be happy, right? The thing is, I'm not. As much as I'd hate to admit it, this past week has been awful. You'd think I would enjoy not having to deal with Jace for once, but instead I've found myself, dare I say it, _missing _him. Go on, have a good laugh at me. I'm sure Isabelle would if she knew the truth. I can't even explain why. The majority of the times Jace and I have talked, it's ended in us having some sort of an argument. So why do I feel such a need to put things right? Why is it that all I've been waiting for this week is for him to just turn around and say something ridiculous to me? And why is it that today of all days, despite how affectionate everyone else has been to me, all I can think about is how he didn't even say _Happy Birthday_ to me?

Yes, today is my seventeenth birthday, something I've been looking forward to for a long time. Even Jonathan gave me something this morning; okay, so it was a Mallard Massacre t-shirt, but it's the thought that counts, right? I woke up, hoping that things might change. But no dice. Again, barely a word was spoken between the two us and I was incensed. I mean, it's not like he didn't know it was today. If the fact that he's known me almost my entire life and has been dragged to the majority of my birthday parties so Jonathan could have 'someone to play with' wasn't enough, then Aline almost knocking me over and screaming it at the top of her lungs should have clued him in on it. He didn't even look at me.

"Clary!" Isabelle pulls me backwards by my jumper. I didn't even realise I was about to walk straight into the road. "Geez, woman, what is up with you?"

"Sorry," I mumble, straightening my backpack. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now."

"I'll say," she purses her lips. "Is this still about Jace? Because if he's still bothering you I will quite happily go and…"

"It's fine," I interject quickly before she can elaborate. "There is something I do need to tell you though." I take a deep breath. Because obviously there is something else that has been bothering me and as my best friend, Isabelle deserves to know the truth.

"Go ahead."

"You're not going to like it…" I trail off, suddenly nervous.

"Just tell me, Clare."

"I was talking to Jonathan the other day and I may or may not have said something really stupid."

"What did you say?" Her expression becomes wary now that I've mentioned Jonathan.

"I…I might have told him that you were maybe only…err…usinghimtomakeSimonjealous." The last part spills out in one go.

"You did what?" Her voice is still carefully guarded.

"I told him you were only using him to make Simon jealous," I mutter, staring down at my feet. The silence lasts for so long that eventually I decide to look up at her. "Isabelle? Look I'm really…"

"Was it that obvious?"

"...sorry, I don't know what I was thinking and wait- what?" Do my ears deceive me?

"How did you know?" She says, looking a little embarrassed.

"How did I know what?"

"That I was trying to make Simon jealous?"

"You were trying to make Simon jealous!?" I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.

"I thought you knew!" Now she looks confused. "Why else would you tell him that?"

"I made it up because I'm an idiot, but that's not relevant right now!" I gape at her open-mouthed. "How long has this been going on?"

"I don't actually know," she shrugs. "All I know is that at some point he stopped being Simon and started being _Simon._"

"I'm not sure I follow…"

"He'd always just been my friend Simon, the awkward geeky little guy I hung out with mainly because of you," she explains. "But then all of a sudden, it was almost overnight, I realised that I wanted to spend time with him. _Me._ Not how it usually is with the three of us. Just me and Simon."

"Thanks," I say, though inside I'm struggling to stay calm. Isabelle likes Simon. Isabelle has always liked Simon. And Simon likes Isabelle. _Be cool Clary,_ I think, whilst planning their wedding in my head. _Be cool. _It's probably a bit too soon to decide what colour their serviettes are going to be. _Though I'm quite partial to aubergine. Nothing says class quite like aubergine. The colour, obviously. Aubergines are pretty cool however… _"So why didn't you just tell him?"

"I was scared," she looks down at me through her eyelashes. I've never seen her look so vulnerable before. "With other guys it's always been so easy, but I was terrified that he'd reject me. I mean, I don't have as much in common with him as you do. You get his little fandom references and whenever he's excited about something, he always goes to you first. Honestly, I didn't think he could ever like me that way. So when I spoke to Jonathan that first day back at school, something just changed. I didn't mean to use your brother like that, you have to believe me. At first, I really did find him attractive. That black hair really did it for me…" She looks at me hopefully, as if this would please me. Yeah, there's just some things I'd rather not know Izzy, thanks. "But it didn't take me long before I realised I wasn't interested beyond that. I was going to back off until I saw Simon's face that day at the gig. There was something so weird about him, so determined in the way he looked at me. And I hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that he was jealous. Maybe there was a chance that he cared."

"And what have you concluded from all this?" I try to hide a smile.

"I think he does!" She grins now, a full-on toothy smile. "I mean, I was a little upset last week when he told me there was nothing I could do to grab his attention. I thought that was it. He could never feel about me that way. But then I also know Simon, and if that were true, he'd never be so blunt about it. He's more sensitive than that. So I figured it must have been because he was angry with me!" I've never seen anyone so happy about the prospect that someone else was angry with them. I can't help but smile back now as I see the excitement on Isabelle's face. Things may not be right for me yet, but at least they're beginning to fall into place for those closest to me.

"So when are you going to tell him all this?"

"I'm not sure," she says, serious again. "I don't think he's completely forgiven me for the Jonathan thing yet, so I'm going to give him a bit of time to see that I've backed off."

"Whatever you think's best."

"So do you reckon tomorrow is too soon?" She bites her lip. I laugh.

"I think tomorrow is perfect."

The ride home is much more pleasant than I thought it would be. For one, Isabelle's sleeping over tonight so I have her to keep me company and in addition, Jace is coming over later with Alec so I don't have to deal with _that_ problem just yet.

We spend the majority of the evening dissecting the Simon situation together. I decide it's not my place to tell Isabelle that Simon has had feelings for her for so long, but it doesn't mean I can't enthuse about the whole thing with her. To be honest, she does most of the talking. She's obviously been keeping this in for a while, so I am content to just sit back and let her gush. We also have a little birthday celebration in the kitchen with my mother, blowing out a solitary candle on a cupcake. My Dad's leaving straight from work for a business trip tonight and my mother's going to go and meet him there in a few minutes, so we're going to leave the main cake until they both come back tomorrow evening.

Just as I've finished serving up miniature slices of my cupcake, Jonathan walks into the kitchen.

"Err, we have a slight problem," he says, twirling his car keys around his index finger.

"What's wrong, darling?" Mum asks, trying to smooth down a stray lock of his hair.

"Oh it's the…Mum!" He brushes her off, only just noticing Isabelle is in the room. "Would you stop doing that!?"

"Sorry, dear." Mum smiles at him, completely unashamed.

"Anyway, my car's not functioning correctly. There's something wrong with the clutch so I can't get it to do anything but reverse."

"Oh dear," Mum gasps. "What are you going to do then?"

"Well, there's nothing I can do. I was wondering if you could give the guys a lift home?" The rest of the boys pile into the kitchen at that, giving my mother their best pleading looks. All of them except Jace, of course. He just glares instead in no particular direction.

"But I have to go and pick up your father and then we're going straight to the hotel for the conference."

"So what am I meant to do?"

"Well, how did Jace and Alec get here? They didn't come with you earlier, did you boys?"

"We got a ride with Magnus," Jace says. "But he's gone to visit some friends for the weekend so he's already left town." My stomach clenches. Those are the first words I've heard him say for a whole week without sounding completely emotionless.

"That's a shame," Mum shakes her head worriedly. "Well, I won't have you boys walking so far at this time of night. Oh no, that wouldn't be right at all. I guess you'll all have to just stay here."

"Alright, cool," Jonathan says as the guys just shrug.

"What!? Wait no, you can't do that. Isabelle's staying over tonight." I interrupt, moving in front of Jonathan. I notice Jace glancing at me.

"I'm sure the boys won't bother you, honey," Mum pats me on the head, before grabbing her purse from the table.

"But they'll…"

"No buts, Clary. Safety first!"

"But…"

"That's final, Clarissa." She looks me in the eye, before heading through the kitchen door. The boys part for her like the Red Sea. "Be good, children!" She says, then I hear the front door close behind her as she leaves the house.

"Well," Jonathan says, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get this party started!"

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**You know what's coming...**

**Thank you for your patience and for sticking with me :D I know this wasn't as funny as it normally is - it's hard for Clary to be her usual hilarious self when she's deprived of Mr Herondale - but I hope this chapter was still enough for you! You'll all get your fill of him next time though ;)**

**Till Sunday...**

**smim xx**


	10. Chapter 10: Trying to avoid the wall

**Hey! Sorry this is so late, I had some things to deal with so I couldn't start writing this as quickly as I hoped I would. But on the plus side, this is the longest chapter yet _by far_. It was also probably my favourite to write, so hopefully you'll have as much fun reading it as I had writing it :D **

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters, but I really wish I owned Smallville pyjamas. Do they even exist?**

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**Chapter 10: Trying to avoid the wall**

"_Well," Jonathan says, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get this party started!"_

"No," I shake my head at him, pushing him towards the kitchen door. Okay, well I'm attempting to push him to the kitchen door; with his weight, it's more me just placing my hands on his chest as my socks keep slipping backwards across the floor. "Absolutely not. There will be no partying here."

"But it's your birthday, Sis." Jonathan smiles at me innocently. "If your being in my life for seventeen years isn't reason enough to celebrate, I don't know what is."

"Yeah, that's sweet and all that, but I know what you're really trying to do here." I manage to move him back an inch. _It's working!_

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about. I'm just trying to make you happy." He takes a step forward, eradicating my progress and more besides. Why did I choose to wear fluffy _frictionless_ socks today of all days? Really, I need to get my priorities straight. Choose the friction over comfort. Always choose the friction.

"Jonathan, I wasn't born yesterday."

"I know that, silly. You were born today, seventeen years ago. Sebastian go grab some champagne!"

"Sebastian, take one step towards that fridge and I will tell your aunt exactly what it was you were doing in the garage the other day," I threaten him. Sebastian freezes midway as the others watch him curiously. _Knew that'd come in handy._

"Seb, who has more dirt on you?" Jonathan says, not taking his eyes off me. "Me or her? Go get that champagne." Sebastian looks between the two of us frantically, clearly torn.

"Don't you dare, Verlac," I glare at him and then at my brother. "You and Alec are the only ones who are already eighteen. Mum and Dad will go insane if they find out about this."

"They don't mind on special occasions which, I was led to believe, this is." Jonathan crosses his arms over his chest.

"Well it's _my_ special occasion," I retort. God, that sounds so strange out loud. "So I get to choose what I want to do, which is for you guys to stay out of my way. You can start with getting out of this kitchen. None of you are getting your hands on any alcohol and to make sure of that, I will stay here all night with Isabelle if I have to."

"Too right, we will." Isabelle nods, backing me up. Jonathan stares at me for a second longer, then glances over my shoulder at Isabelle.

"Fine," he eventually sighs. "We'll just have to find some other ways to entertain ourselves." He rolls his eyes at me, then ushers the rest of the guys out of the kitchen. "We'll be in the next room if you need us."

"Are we seriously staying here all night?" Isabelle mumbles to me once the boys are safely out of earshot.

"No, just long enough for them to forget what they even wanted from here. It won't take much time, don't worry. All we need is for them to start playing Call of Duty or something and they won't disturb us for the rest of the night. In the meantime, do you want to play Uno?"

Isabelle and I spend the next hour playing Uno on the dining table. During that time, Jonathan pokes his head in through the door once, checking if we're still there. Around ten minutes after that, Jordan is sent to the kitchen. But then unlike Jonathan, who just said hello and left, he makes up some lame excuse about wanting some milk, so we keep our eyes on him as he reluctantly pours himself a glass. Then he sips it slowly, waiting for us to go back to our game, but we don't give him that satisfaction. Instead, we smile at him and let him stand there awkwardly as he finishes the entire glass. Every single drop. After that, Jonathan doesn't send anyone else.

We're finally ready to head upstairs when we hear the tell-tale noises of instruments being set up. I freeze halfway up the staircase.

"Surely they can't be thinking of having practice now?" I look at Isabelle, her face mirroring the panic that must be evident on mine. Then the wailing begins as they start to play their songs.

"I can't believe this!" Isabelle lets out a long string of curses as we both stomp over to the practice room. The boys completely ignore the two of us as we stand by the door, continuing with their crazy antics. Their music has taken on a whole different type of feel though. For some reason it sounds a lot more brutal than normal, like they're actually trying to play their instruments to death.

"JONATHAN!" I yell at the top of my lungs, but he doesn't pay me any heed. Even Isabelle's screaming can't be heard over the din. The music is so loud it seems as if it's affecting the room itself. The lights even look like they might be flickering. Unless that's just the headache that's inevitably coming on.

No wait. The lights are definitely flickering. I glance at Isabelle at the same moment she looks at me. Our eyes lock for a second and then I can't see them anymore. In fact, I can't see anything anymore. I belatedly realise that I can't hear anything either. Did I just die? Is that what happened? Was the music so awful that it _literally killed me!?_

"Why are the lights off!?" I hear someone howl. I think it's Jordan, but I can't be sure.

"Power cut," I hear someone else say. Jonathan. Yeah okay, so that's probably a more likely explanation than death. Though if anyone's music could be bad enough to actually kill someone, it would be Mallard Massacre's.

"This is all your fault!" I shout in frustration.

"Ouch, Clary," Isabelle groans. "That was right in my ear."

"Sorry, Izzy." I turn myself around a little and yell again in what I hope is Jonathan's general direction. If he hadn't completely soundproofed the practice room, we might have a little light coming in from outside, but instead it's pitch black.

"How is it my fault?" Alec asks. _Wrong direction again._

"Not you, Alec," I huff. "Jonathan, wherever the hell you are, this is your fault."

"I highly doubt that," Jonathan replies. "We practice all the time and we've never had a problem with the electrics before. I think the whole street is down."

"I don't care whose fault it is," Jordan says, his voice coming from somewhere incredible close by. "Can we please just get some light in here?"

"I think there are some candles in the living room," I say, feeling my way to the door. My fingers encounter something rock hard. I grope the wall, trying to find my way back to the entrance. Where the hell is the door? The wall grunts. My hands fly off it in surprise. _Did the wall just make a noise?_

"Isabelle," I squeak. "The wall just made a sound."

"That's because it's not a wall," it grunts again. Jace. Crap, the wall is Jace. The wall is _Jace_. That means I was just _feeling up _Jace. Oh dear lord. I'm glad it's dark because then he can't see that all the blood has just rushed up to my face. If I were ever to undergo spontaneous combustion, now would be a pretty good time for it. Any other time, he'd probably just find this funny, but given our current situation he's probably either furious or feeling incredibly awkward. I can't quite tell from his voice. I mean, grunts aren't all that expressive. This is why I have such a hard time understanding Jonathan.

"Sorry," I mumble, backing up as far as I can from him, only to collide with someone else.

Jordan lets out a high-pitched scream.

"Jordan!" I try to reassure him, but he won't stop screaming. "It's just me, for goodness' sake." He's still screaming. Is this what Maia has to put up with? I've got to say though, that boy sure has a set of lungs on him. No wonder he's the vocalist. He's definitely being very _vocal _right now. _Bad time for jokes, Clary._

"Kyle, pull yourself together, man." Jonathan snaps, suddenly right next to me. Jordan shuts up immediately. How he managed to make his way over here without impaling himself on some kind of equipment is beyond me. _You got mad skills, bro. _

"I know I do," he says, and then he places his hands on my shoulders, showing me to the door. Damn, did I just say that out loud? Before I know it, we're safely through the door and I can vaguely make out the hallway. I can't see any of the streetlamps outside, so Jonathan's probably right. It's the whole street. Then he guides me into the living room, which is lit with an eerie glow from the moonlight streaming in through the windows. My eyes have adjusted a little better at this point, so I look behind me to see that everyone is hanging on to each other in some sort of way. It's like we've formed some sort of conga line and I'm leading it. Once the last person has piled into the living room, Jonathan lets go of me.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?" He asks, slowly prying Jordan's fingers off his own shoulders.

"I just feel a little uneasy without light, that's all." Jordan says, stuttering a bit. A _little_ uneasy? I'll say.

"You're scared of the dark?" Jonathan says, disbelief plain in his voice.

"I wouldn't put it that way…"

"You're scared of the dark," he says again, though without it being a question this time.

"Maybe."

"Just stay there with Alec," Jonathan chuckles. "I'm going to look for some candles."

A few minutes later, we're all sitting in a circle on the floor, a selection of lit candles set up in the middle. Mum tends to go through quite a few phases since she's always trying to 'discover' herself, so luckily we still have a lot of candles and the like left over from her month of meditation.

"Dude, what is up with those candles?" Sebastian says, looking a little freaked out. He's sitting opposite me, in between Jace and Alec. "Are you trying to set up a séance or something?"

"Why would you think that?" Jonathan asks. He's sitting to the left of me, with Jordan on the other side of him. To my right is Isabelle, who in turn is next to her brother. Jace is still very obviously trying to avoid making eye contact with me. I can't say I blame him after the way I just violated him. I let my hair fall in front of my face to hide my cheeks, just in case everyone can see me blush now.

"Well, for one, you've created a pentagram." Sure enough, when I take a closer look I realise Jonathan has indeed set up the candles in a pentagram shape.

"Completely unintentional, I assure you," Jonathan laughs, though something tells me it's not.

"Well can you change it then!?" Jordan whimpers, hugging his legs to his body. He looks around the circle nervously. "I don't want any freaky voodoo going on here."

"Chill, man." Jonathan moves a couple of the candles around. Now the pattern looks more like some kind of chicken. "Is that better?"

"Yeah," Jordan nods, but he doesn't relax his position.

"Now everyone just calm down, okay? I'm sure the lights will be back on soon enough. In the meantime, why don't we tell some horror stories to pass the time?"

"Can we not?" Jordan squirms.

"Oh come on, Kyle. If anything it's for your own good."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it's better that you're prepared."

"Prepared for what?" His eyes bug wide. I should probably stop my brother, but I'm kind of getting a kick out of someone else being the butt of his jokes for once.

"For one, there's the spirit that lives on our street."

"What spirit?" Alec pipes up, egging him on.

"The spirit of a young boy who used to live a few doors away from us."

"What happened to him?"

"Well, he went out with his brother and his friends one night when they got into a bit of trouble. You know that old abandoned hotel a couple of miles from here?"

"The Hotel Dumort?" Jace asks, leaning forward.

"That's the one. Well, they thought it would be a good idea to break into it that night. No one knows why. Something just _possessed _them to do it. They went in, but here's the thing, only three of them came out. The boy never came back, and his brother and his two friends wouldn't say a word about what happened. They were all too traumatised by whatever had happened to them inside. But sometimes, even now, people say they can see the lost brother wandering these streets, looking for the others, wondering why they hadn't gone back for him."

"And how long ago did it happen?" Jace presses. "How long ago did he go missing?"

"Over a hundred years ago…"

"And have you ever seen him?"

"I haven't myself, but De Quincey next door once told me that a boy knocked at his door one night, asking if he'd seen his brother. But before he had a chance to ask the boy who he was, he just disappeared." Jonathan whispers the last part for dramatic effect.

"SHIT NO!" Jordan yelps, scrambling off the floor. I jump at the sudden noise. I didn't realise I'd been getting so sucked in to the story, despite the fact that Jonathan had told it to me many times when I was younger. Of course, I didn't believe him now, but I still always feel a little uneasy whenever I pass the old Hotel Dumort.

"I'm joking, geez…" Jonathan laughs, gesturing for Jordan to sit back down.

"No way," Jordan shakes his head. "I'm not sitting anywhere near you, Morgenstern."

Suddenly we hear a tapping sound coming from the front door and Jordan lets out a blood-curdling scream.

"Shut up!" Jonathan jumps up and slaps his hand over Jordan's mouth, muffling his protests. We all freeze, looking at each other across the circle. Then our eyes drift to the hallway. Jonathan's story wasn't true. Of course it wasn't true. My brother's full of crap most of the time. Maybe we just imagined it?

The tapping stops. But then there's a knock. A solid knock on the door.

Isabelle grips my hand. Even Jonathan looks ruffled. Our eyes lock and he just shrugs at me.

Another knock.

"Is someone going to get that?" Alec mutters. No one dares to speak too loudly. No one looks like they're about to move anytime soon either.

"Maybe it's Mum and Dad?" I look at Jonathan hopefully. "Maybe they forgot something."

Three more knocks.

I push myself off the floor shakily.

"Jon?" I look to him again. We'll have to open the door eventually but there's no way in hell I'm going out there alone. He nods at me, then releases his hold on Jordan. By this point, Jordan is just too frozen in shock to make a sound. Jonathan makes his way into the hallway slowly, with me not too far behind. None of the others look like they're going to join us. _Dweebs._ Always leaving it to the Morgensterns.

We both pause momentarily as we see the silhouette behind the front door. One silhouette. Not two. So our parents aren't back, after all. Then who on earth is it? Jonathan looks over his shoulder at me.

"What do we do?"

"Well, it doesn't look like they're going anytime soon." As if they can hear us, the person knocks again.

"So we open the door?" He gulps.

"We open the door," I nod. Jonathan edges forward slowly. I grip the edge of his shirt as we both move closer and closer to the front door.

"Ah!" Jonathan squeaks. I scream.

"Clary, keep it down!" He places his hand over my mouth. _Ew, that hand just touched Jordan's mouth too._ That's literally the first thing I think of. I know, I wouldn't survive long in horror films.

"Then why the hell did you make that noise?" We speak in harsh whispers.

"You stepped on my bloody foot!"

"Oh, sorry."

The figure knocks again. Jonathan places his hand on the door handle.

"Clary, if anything happens to me tonight, I just want you to know that…"

"Jon, just open the damn door."

He turns the knob and wrenches the door back before he can think too much into it. I prepare to scream again as the figure looms up overhead. He has a rather large rectangular object in his hand, which he raises towards us. I duck behind Jonathan. This is it, we're going to die. We're going to be bludgeoned to death by –

"Pizza?" The man steps backwards into a pool of light on the porch, revealing himself and the three boxes of pizza in his hands. I let out the breath I've been holding, but I still can't bring myself to speak. Even Jonathan's at a loss for words. "Oh sorry, is this the wrong house?" The man checks a sheet of paper that is lying on top of the boxes. "Three pizzas for Jonathan Morgenstern?" He speaks with a foreign accent, though I can't quite place it.

"Oh. _Oh!"_ Jonathan snaps out of whatever trance he's in. "Sorry, I completely forgot about that."

"How convenient," I grumble, smacking him in the shoulder. I could have had a heart attack and died, all because my brother forgot about some pizza.

"No problem, I'm Raphael, by the way!" The boy smiles, the moonlight illuminating his shiny teeth, and passes the boxes over to Jonathan.

"Thanks," Jonathan reaches into his jeans pocket for some cash and hands it to Raphael. "Why didn't you just ring the doorbell?"

"Power's out," Raphael shrugs.

"Ah yes," Jonathan laughs awkwardly. "Keep the change."

"Thank you," Raphael grins. "Enjoy your evening!" Then he waves and runs back down the path where a small moped is parked. As he revs the engine, the streetlamp above him flickers and then the whole street floods with light. I blink as all the lights in the house turn on at once. The rest of the band and Isabelle come running into the hallway.

"Are you guys alright!?" Jordan asks, his gaze flicking between the two of us.

"Yes we're quite fine, no thanks to Jonathan." I roll my eyes at my brother. "The idiot forgot he'd ordered pizza. It was just Raphael the delivery man at the door."

"Raphael?" Alec raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, why?"

"The name just sounds familiar, that's all."

"I think he was Spanish or something."

Alec gives Jonathan a weird look, but then he shakes it off.

"Well, don't just stand around then. I'm starving!" Sebastian announces. I glare at Jonathan one more time before we all follow Seb into the kitchen. Personally, I think I've lost my appetite.

It doesn't take long for the seven of us to finish off the pizzas. Jonathan sets up some beds downstairs in the living room for the boys to sleep on, while Isabelle and I make our way back to my room upstairs. I leave her to get ready for bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. My Mum decided to have a massive cleaning spree before she left, so the only pyjamas I'm left with are my slightly holey Smallville ones. I only really bought them in the first place because of Tom Welling's face on the shirt, despite the fact that they're meant for boys and are way too big for me. My gaze is too fixed on my own shirt to notice that the bathroom is occupied. My eyes snap up as I almost trip over the threshold of the bathroom door, and then I'm close to tripping over again as they land on the half-naked man before me.

Jace stands a few feet away from, wiping his hands on a towel. Oh, and he's only wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms, but that's no big deal. He freezes as he looks up to see me by the doorway.

"Sorry, I…err…" I gasp, stumbling backwards. Then I turn and begin to head back out of the bathroom before I can embarrass myself anymore.

"Clary, wait!" I stop. Not because he told me to wait though. I stop because he just called me Clary. Not Midge, or Shorty, or _Clarissa_ packed with sarcasm. Just Clary. I turn back around slowly, making sure to keep my eyes on his face and not on his bare muscly chest. _Face, Clary, face._

"Yes?" I squeak, my voice barely audible.

"I just, I…uhm…" He runs his hand through his hair. "I just wanted to say I'm…err…I'm sorry."

"What?" I was definitely not expecting that.

"I'm sorry," he says again, with more conviction. "I've been a complete arse to you this past week, and you didn't deserve it." I start to speak, but he raises his hand to stop me. "Just let me talk, and then you can say what you like. I was wrong, okay? I don't say that often, so don't expect me to say it again. I mean, at first I was really pissed, but then I realised I had no right to be like that. I shouldn't have put you in that position, no matter how much I hate Smeliorn." I stifle a giggle at his nickname for Meliorn. I almost can't quite believe what I'm hearing. All this week I've been trying to apologise, but he hasn't even seemed interested in talking to me. And now he's apologising to _me?_ "I get that we're not close, and I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I won't do it again. That's why I've been keeping my distance lately." And just like that, my heart sinks. "I'm sorry. I understand if you don't want to talk to me again, but I just wanted you to know that. That's all." He looks at me carefully, as if he's assessing whether or not I'm about to explode at him. I don't quite know myself. This isn't the Jace I want. I'm glad he's talking to me again, but I want things back the way they were before. I don't want us to be treading on eggshells around each other from now on. _So tell him, duh._ Right, yeah. Maybe I should.

"I'm sorry, too," I say, instead. His eyes widen. "Yeah, you were being a little overbearing, but I shouldn't have said the things that I said."

"You don't have to…"

"I didn't mean them, Jace." I cut him off. "I was so angry at you and I just couldn't help myself. Once I started talking, I couldn't stop. I regretted them as soon as they'd left my mouth."

"So you don't hate me?" The words come out slowly, as if he's testing them. He still sounds unsure, but his expression seems a little more open than before. It's almost like he wants to hope, but he can't bring himself to.

"No, Jace. I don't hate you." I roll my eyes at him. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. "Don't get me wrong, you drive me up the wall sometimes and there are moments when I really think I might strangle you and…"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" He laughs. A proper, genuine laugh. His whole face lights up with his eyes crinkling at the corners, and all of the sudden my chest feels ten times tighter than it did a few seconds ago. "So we're good?"

"Yeah," I smirk. "We're good." I try to play it cool but inside I'm running around with my arms flailing all over the place. He's back. Jace is back. One guy shouldn't have the power to make my mood rollercoaster like this, but somehow he's managing it.

"In that case…" he fumbles around inside one of his pockets. Seriously though, how it fair that even men's pyjama bottoms have pockets? _Don't stare at his trousers, Clary, geez. _I move my eyes up. _No, don't stare at his perfectly toned abs either!_ My eyes widen. Who knew guitar-playing could give you a six-pack? I know he plays a bit of football in his spare time, but _damn_. It's hardly a surprise that I mistook him for the wall earlier. "Err…" he coughs. It's only then that I realise he's been holding something up to me for the past few seconds. _Oh god._ You couldn't give me a power cut now, could you? Too late. He can probably already see that my face has just turned fifty shades of red. I mean, he did just catch me staring at his body. I shudder. It sounds so dirty when I put it like that.

I decide to avert my eyes, finally, and pay attention to his hand. He's holding a little black box, small enough to fit in my palm.

"What's this?" I whisper.

"Open it," he smirks at me, all of his smugness back.

I gingerly take the box from him, desperately trying to ignore how much my hand is shaking. What could be small enough to fit in something like this? In the back of my mind I'm getting an idea, but for the moment I'm too fixated on the box to make much sense of my thoughts. I open the lid gently, treating it as if it could explode at any moment, then I gasp. Inside the box on a little cushion, sits a gold ring.

My thoughts go wild.

I look up at him, mouth wide open. He's still just smirking. This doesn't make any sense. Is he- _no. Surely not. _He definitely can't be.

"Take it out then," he says, still the picture of ease.

It's only as I reach for the ring, that I realise it's attached to a silver-link chain. I take hold of the chain and pull it out, holding the ring up in front of me. As the ring rotates and catches the light, I finally notice the engravings on it. This is no ordinary ring. This is –

"THE ONE RING!?" I breathe, gazing at it in wonder. I've wanted this from Forbidden Planet for so long and I've been hinting it to everyone, but I didn't think anyone was every listening to me. _Apart from him._

"I thought you might like it," Jace grins. "Happy Birthday."

"Aaaaaaaaah!" I squeal, throwing my arms around his neck. "Thank you so much, oh my god. This is the best thing ever." He wraps his arms around my waist tentatively.

After about five seconds of fangirling, I realise what I've done. I'm hugging Jace. I don't think I've ever hugged Jace. We're usually at each other's throats so much of the time, that I've never had a moment like this with him.

"You're very welcome," he says, and I can feel his chest vibrate as he speaks. Then I realise what I've really done. I'm hugging him _topless._ I'm suddenly hyperaware of how pathetically thin my shirt is.

_Okay, think Clary. Let's do this step by step. _

_Firstly, detach yourself from the half-naked Jace._

I pry my fingers from his neck slowly. Luckily, he also chooses this moment to remove his arms from my waist. That'll definitely make it easier to think.

_Secondly, move away from the half-naked Jace._

I take a step backwards so we're no longer in contact with each other, staring at my feet the whole time.

_Thirdly, stop referring to him as the half-naked Jace._

I gulp and he coughs awkwardly.

"Really though, thank you," I say again, biting my lip.

"It's cool," he shrugs. Silence falls between us.

"Well, I should probably be getting back to the guys now," he says, ruffling his hair again. I notice he does that a lot when he's nervous.

"Yeah." I step aside so he can move past me to the door, without any more contact.

"Goodnight, Clary." He says, looking at me over his shoulder before he closes the bathroom door on me.

"Goodnight, Jace." I say. Then I turn to the bathroom mirror and scream silently.

_Fourthly, just admit that you like him already._

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**There it is! Phew.**

**I really hoped you guys liked this :D Also it just occurred to me that tomorrow is the one-month anniversary of this story's publish date. So this time a month ago, the first couple of chapters were just random documents on my computers. One month later, I never dreamed this story would get as much of a response as it has done, so thank you all so much for supporting it. It means the world to me to have so many of you following this and taking your time to give it a chance. It's become so much more to me than I thought I would, and I love you all for giving _me_ this chance. I didn't realise how much I'd missed writing until now. So thank you.**

**Till Wednesday guys...**

**smim xx**


	11. Chapter 11: Trying not to freak out

**HI GUYS! Firstly, I just want to say OHMYGANDALF. I honestly never expected this story to do so well and the response for the last chapter was just phenomenal. Thank you all so so much! Hope you guys like this one too :) Also, I have some news in the AN at the end, so if you normally skip them (in which case you probably aren't reading this, crap, though they're so long I don't blame you) you'll probably want to pay attention to this one.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters. I just put them in really awkward situations.**

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**Chapter 11: Trying not to freak out**

The next morning I wake up in an infinitely better mood.

"Come on, Isabelle," I shout in the direction of my bedroom as I wait by the top of the stairs. I bounce from one foot to the other, trying and failing to hide my impatience. I've told her that I'm just really hungry and want to eat breakfast as soon as possible, but I'm not sure if she's completely buying it. Obviously, the truth is that I'm just very eager to see a certain someone this morning. You know that phrase about having butterflies in your stomach? Well I've got a whole bloody battalion inside me, and I swear they're all on drugs or something. It's strange how you can go from being so angry at someone, to wanting to see them this badly. And how did this someone change my mind? By giving me a ring. Not just any ring though, oh no. He gave me The One Ring.

That's not to say that his present changed my feelings towards him, however. It just helped me to _realise_ them. I can't say for sure how long it's been, but having admitted it to myself has certainly made me feel a lot better.

I like Jace.

Just those three words have sent my demon butterflies into a flurry. It's strangely liberating to think them, almost a bit like I'm an addict, owning up to my problem.

Hello everyone, I'm Clarissa Morgenstern.

_Hello, Clarissa Morgenstern. _They all chime in unison.

I've been out of denial for approximately seven hours and I haven't felt any urge to go back to it yet.

_That's fantastic. Let's all give Clarissa a round of applause._

"Okay, I'm here!" Isabelle glides out of my room, wearing a _pale yellow summer dress!?_

"Don't move," I say to her, holding my hands up. "Don't panic, okay? We're going to find whoever did this to you and make them pay. No one needs to know."

"Oh do stop being so dramatic, woman," Isabelle rolls her eyes. "I did this to myself willingly."

"And what on earth possessed you to do it?"

"Well, Simon's coming over in a bit, isn't he?" She looks at me nervously, twiddling her thumbs as she speaks. A nervous Isabelle in a pale yellow dress. What else could life possible throw at me?

"Izzy, Simon knows what you normally look like," I shake my head at her. "You don't have to pretend to be something you're not for him. Just be yourself."

"Yeah, because that's obviously worked in my favour already," she huffs.

"You haven't even spoken to him yet! You can't know for sure until you do."

"So…do you think I should go and change?"

"I think you should do whatever you want to do. If you feel comfortable wearing the dress, then wear it. If you'd prefer wearing my Pikachu onesie, feel free to try that. I've never given you fashion advice before, Iz, and I'm not about to start now. It will end badly. For the both of us."

"Okay," Isabelle purses her lips in thought for a second, then nods. "I'll go and change then."

"You do that. But be quick, I'm so _hungry_ I think I might just pass out!" I yell the last part as she shuts the door on me.

Five minutes later, she's finally ready again – wearing her usual clothes this time so she doesn't give poor Simon a heart attack – so we make our way downstairs. As we near the kitchen, a slightly burnt aroma wafts down the hallway. We walk in to find the majority of the boys sitting at the dining table, while Jace cooks scrambled eggs on the stove. He looks over as I walk in.

"Good morning," he grins at me, setting those insects into a frenzy again. I wonder if there's a way to sedate them. He's still wearing the plaid pyjamas from last night, but thankfully for my sanity, he's got a loose grey t-shirt on this time. His blonde hair is mussed from sleep, but it looks even better that way to me.

"Morning," I smile back, sauntering over to the table. "How did you all sleep?"

Notice how I address them all collectively, so no one thinks I'm paying special attention to Jace. I know, I have crazy skills. Watch and learn.

"Not bad," Jonathan yawns. "Though this idiot-" he flicks Jordan in the head, "-kept waking us up every now and then with his screaming."

"His screaming?" Isabelle steps forward, looking alarmed.

"Yeah," Jonathan smiles lazily at her. "I guess he doesn't quite have the stomach for horror stories."

"It wasn't that!" Jordan protests, indignant. "It was because Sebastian kept rolling onto my side, mumbling things in French."

"No I didn't," Sebastian says, crossing his arms. "I can't even speak French."

"But you were raised in Paris," Alec points out.

"That doesn't mean anything…" Sebastian looks away, trying to avoid eye contact with any of us.

"Anyway," Jace drags out the word. "Do you want some eggs, Midge?"

"Sure," I say, before I have time to remember the fact that –

"You don't like eggs, though," Jonathan helpfully adds. Jace raises an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, _eggs. _I thought you said, 'do you want some _air_?'" Smooth, Clary. Real smooth. "So obviously I was like, 'well yeah, who doesn't need _air_?' You know…" I trail off awkwardly.

Someone should really invent some kind of beeper that goes off in your head every time you need to just _stop. _In my head it'd probably be less of a beeper though, and more of a constant drone.

The boys are still staring at me so I decide that maybe I should get some air, after all. It might help to clear my mind a bit.

"I'm just going to let myself out," I announce, before backing out of the patio doors and heading into the garden. It's a little bit chilly outside, but luckily I remembered to change my clothes before I came downstairs. It's a good thing too, because normally I just tumble straight out of my bed into the kitchen, rolling the majority of the way there and looking like something out of The Grudge.

One thing I belatedly realise I did forget though, are my shoes. At the point however, I'm already half the way down the garden so I decide to just trudge on. It's not like I'm actually hungry, anyway. My body clock is set to waking up at around midday at the weekends, so I shouldn't be hungry for at least a couple more hours.

After walking around by the bushes at the edge of the garden for a little while, I sense someone behind me. _Unagi. _I spin on my heel, which I later realise isn't the best thing to do when you're barefoot, and find myself staring straight at Jace's chestal region. I crane my neck to look up at him.

"Hi," I say, squinting because the Sun is in my eyes. The actual Sun. Not Jace's face. "Wait, one second." I step back until my vision is clearer. "Okay, that's better."

"You're a very strange person, did you know that?" He smirks down at me, though at a lesser angle than before.

"Please, you're too kind." I pretend to choke up. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I figured you might want these," he holds up a pair of sandals towards me. "You forgot them in your rush to get some _air_."

"Right, thanks…" I let out a single nervous laugh, slipping on the shoes. "Yeah, I was desperately in need of air."

"I could see that."

We stand facing each other for a few seconds, both seemingly unsure of what to say. Normally, he'd just give me the shoes and then go straight back inside. Okay, _normally_, he wouldn't even think to give me the shoes in the first place. Last night clearly has changed things between us, but we're obviously not equipped to deal with the new situation yet. He rocks back and forth on his heels slightly, as if he's not sure whether to stay out here with me or choose the socially safe option, which would be to make some excuse and go back inside. Honestly, I don't quite know why he isn't just going with the latter. Not that I'm complaining, of course. After a whole week of indifference, even standing in the garden on a cold morning seems great. Despite how awkward this is though, it doesn't seem like either of us is going to be making a move anytime soon.

"Badger," Jace suddenly splutters, eyes widening.

"What?"

"Badger!" He runs past me to a little gap behind the bushes.

"Badgers are nocturnal…"

"Well this one is a daylighter then, because I just saw it run past with one of your potatoes or something in its mouth," he says, crouching down by the hedge. I walk over to join him.

"No!" My gaze lands on my newly destroyed vegetable patch. My scarecrow clearly didn't work then. Okay, so it's less of a scarecrow and more of a Voldemort doll, but you'd think it'd do the trick, right? "That little bugger!"

"Well, the little bugger is pretty damn fast because I have no idea where it just went."

"It probably has some secret portal inside one of the bushes," I glare in its general direction.

"You mean a badger hole…"

"No, I mean a portal to the demonic dimension from whence it came."

"I see." Jace looks up at me from his stooped position. "So in order to feed its hellish minions, it's transported all the way to your garden to steal a potato from your vegetable patch."

"So we're on the same page, then." I say, ignoring his sarcasm.

Before he has time to reply, I hear voices from behind me. Isabelle and Simon are walking down the garden path, heading straight towards us. I'm about to say hello when they stop a few metres away and turn to face each other. I realise I'm still partially hidden by the bushes so they must not have seen me yet. Just then, I see Isabelle move closer to Simon. _Oh crap._ She was going to tell him about her feelings today, and this is probably that conversation and they still don't know I'm here!

_What to do?_

Okay, so my first option is announcing my presence so I don't have to witness the mind-scarring scene that is likely about to unfold, but completely ruining their moment in the process. Or my other option is to hide, and then try to black out for the next few minutes.

"Clary, what's going on?" Jace says, about to get up. Damn, I'd forgotten about him. Well, I guess the first option is out then. If Jace and I both rise out from behind this bush together, there'd be way too many questions to deal with.

"Shh, keep it down!" I duck down beside him, peeking at the two of them through a gap in the leaves. He leans over to try and see what I'm looking at.

"Simon and Isabelle!?"

"Shut up!" I whisper, unable to tear my gaze away from the two of them.

"So, Simon…" Isabelle says, twirling her hair between her fingers. "I really like that shirt you're wearing today."

"Oh my god!" Jace bites on his own hand to keep from laughing. "I can't watch this."

"Then don't!" I snap at him. "Close your eyes."

"That doesn't stop me from hearing it," he groans. "This is so bad."

"Err, thanks." Simon coughs awkwardly. "My mother gave it to me."

"She has good taste," Isabelle giggles. _Giggles. _Isabelle doesn't giggle. It's like someone's replaced her with a hormonal fourteen-year old. Actually, it's like someone has replaced her with Maureen.

"Thanks."

"Clary, I can't do this." Jace mumbles.

"Just be quiet…" I nudge him. It's awkward for me too, but Simon and Isabelle have always been my real life OTP and I'm actually kind of getting a kick out of watching them finally admit their feelings. Well, almost admitting their feelings.

"So…how have you been lately?" Isabelle asks, moving even closer to him.

"Not too bad," he shrugs. If he's shocked by her sudden proximity, he's definitely not showing it. "That power cut last night affected our street too, so I got interrupted half way through Skyrim and it didn't save my progress."

"That's awful!" Isabelle gasps.

"Yeah," Simon moans. "It was just so frustrating!"

"I can imagine…"

"I was on the bit where…" He stops himself. "Well, it'd probably just bore you."

"No!" Isabelle shakes her head. "I want to know, really! Maybe you could explain it all to me sometime?"

"You want to…err…play Skyrim?"

"Yes!" She nods eagerly. "I could come round your house at some point, if that's okay? And you could show me?"

"Of course," Simon seems taken aback. "I just didn't think you'd…"

"I do!" She says again, biting her lip.

"I'm dying, Midge. I'm dying." Jace chokes. I smack him in the shoulder.

"But…why?" Simon asks eventually. "Why now? You've never shown an interest before."

"Because…" She looks down at her hands. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you…"

"No, oh god. No." Jace moans. "I can't do this. Clary, make it stop."

"Jace,_ shut up!"_ I slap my hand over his mouth.

"You see Simon, the thing is…"

"What, Isabelle? You can tell me…"

"_Clary!"_ Jace mumbles, his voice muffled by my hand.

"For quite a while now…" Isabelle continues, still playing with her hair.

"_Clary, look!"_

"I am looking!" I whisper back to Jace, keeping my eyes on the pair of them.

"You see…" Isabelle opens her mouth, about to say it.

"_No, not them!"_ Jace says again, jerking his head. His eyes are wildly fixated on something at his foot. Something black and white and rather large.

I scream.

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**CLIFFIE! I'm sorry, I know I'm evil.**

**Okay, so I have some news. I'm heading off on holiday this weekend to a remote village in the middle of the english countryside, where there is pretty much nothing but sheep for miles around. It's literally like I'm going to The Shire. That also means...I will have no wifi D: If I can, I'll try to get another chapter out to you at some point, but there is a chance I might not be able to give you an update until Wednesday...two weeks from now. That isn't for definite though. If it does decide to rain all week (which sometimes it does because hey, it's England) then I won't be going out, so I'll have time to write. Then, if I can manage to make a trip to the nearest point of civilisation, I might be able to get internet access and post another chapter for you. But at this stage, I can't promise anything. I'll try my best though. SORRY FRIENDS!**

**In other news though, HAS ANYONE ELSE SEEN CITY OF BONES YET!? I've been seeing a lot of mixed opinions on tumblr so I'd love to know what you guys made of it - since you have such great taste and all ;) I personally LOVED IT. I'd say this is probably my favourite book-to-movie adaptation since LOTR so if any of you have been put off by the critics and aren't sure, just go and watch it. As long as you bear in mind that changes have to be made sometimes (though in my opinion they probably made the plot even better) then I'm sure you'll enjoy it. And remember, if we want to have City of Glass made and to finally meet JONATHAN MORGENSEXY we have to make sure this does well, so go and see it as many times as you can! Take your siblings, take your parents, take your grandmother's dog-walker, take _everyone. _We may end up broke by the end of it, but at least we'll have Jonathan. Anyway, I'm meant to be dropping my sister off at school for her GCSE results bright and early in...a few hours oh crap, so I'd better get to sleep! Let me know what you thought of the chapter/film/life :D**

**Till err...the next time -nervous laugh-**

**smim xx**


	12. Chapter 12: Trying to placate Valentine

**I'M BAAAAAAAAAAACK! Did you miss me? :P I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to update during the past week after all, weirdly enough the weather was actually amazing so some of you need to work on your rain dances haha! We even made a day trip to Wales where I just fangirled about Will Herondale the entire time. It was awesome! Thank you all so much though for your reviews on the last chapter, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to reply to them. I read every single one though and I appreciate your comments so much :) I missed you guys too! Thank you so much for your patience :D**

**So finally, I can present to you the next chapter! Though I just want to say first, to all of you who thought it was a skunk -_really!?_ I thought I made it really obvious it was a badger considering they _chased it into the bushes. _Either you were joking or badgers clearly don't exist in your country (you fortunate souls) so I suggest you google them right now. Right now. Google the badger. You're not allowed to read any more until you do. I'm watching you. The badgers are watching you. Badger.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters, nor do I own any badgers. Thank god.**

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**Chapter 12: Trying to placate Valentine**

"_No, not them!" Jace says again, jerking his head. His eyes are wildly fixated on something at his foot. Something black and white and rather large._

_I scream._

"RUN!" Jace scrambles off the grass, pushing me in front of him as he goes.

"No!" I turn back around. Why are we running? I wasn't screaming in fear, I was unleashing a battle cry. "This is my chance. Now I can finally destroy it!"

"Clary, how the hell are you going to destroy it!? Do you have any idea how dangerous they are?" He half carries me through the bushes as I struggle to get past him. A small part of my mind registers the fact that Jace's arms are literally around me right now, but the rest of it is in full revenge mode.

"It's getting away!" I gasp, eyeing the badger. It scurries towards a little dip in our garden fence, but just before it escapes, it turns around to face me. In that moment I could swear I see it smirk at me, mocking me. Laughing at how it has devastated the fruits – or rather, vegetables – of my labour. I'm not joking, it actually gives me a look of pure evil. Don't tell me it's the hunger talking. I know what I saw. And then it just slips its furry potato-stealing arse through the hole and it's gone. "COME FACE ME LIKE A MAN, YOU COWARD!" I yell after it.

"Clary, would you please just…" Jace is still trying to push me in the other direction.

"YEAH, YOU KEEP RUNNING!" I wave my fist in the air.

Suddenly, my flimsy slippers catch on a loose branch and the next thing I know I'm falling.

"Cla-" Jace breaks off as he tumbles to the ground with me. Unknowingly, I'd grabbed the collar of his shirt on my way down. I hit the ground with a thud, feeling a sharp pain shoot up my elbow. The pain worsens as Jace lands directly on top of me, his arms digging into my back. I groan and slowly pry my eyelids open, only to find two golden orbs staring straight back at me. His face is just a few centimetres away from mine, his breath coming out hard and fast. I look straight back at him, unable to move. He can probably _feel_ my heart racing, let alone hear it. A throaty cough cuts through the silence.

Jace and I turn our heads simultaneously towards the direction of the noise. Simon and Isabelle are gaping at the two of us, open-mouthed. _Ah crap_. I'd actually completely forgotten they were here.

"Hi there!" I squeak, pushing Jace off of me immediately. He obliges. "Fancy seeing you here, eh?"

"We could ask you the same question," Isabelle glares down at me. I take Jace's proffered hand, letting him pull me up.

"What exactly were you two doing in the bushes together?" Simon asks, giving Jace a weird sort of look.

"And more importantly, how long have you been there?" Isabelle presses.

Jace and I glance at each other.

"A while?" I hedge.

"So what were you doing in the bushes for _a while_!?"

"We were just, you know, appreciating the surroundings…" Jace smiles awkwardly.

"Enjoying the peace of the morn…" I offer, waving my hands about in an ethereal fashion.

"Being at one with nature…"

"Connecting the Yin and the Yang…"

"Connecting _what_ now!?" Simon's eyes bulge.

"_Yin and Yang!"_ I snap, as Jace seems like he's about to cough his lungs up. "It's a meditative process. Very spiritual."

"Clary, how stupid do you think I am?" Isabelle places her hands on her hips, glaring at the both of us. Damn, I'd really thought she'd buy that.

"Do you really want to hear the answer to that?" Jace mumbles under his breath. I punch him in the shoulder.

"Fine," I roll my eyes. "We were looking for the badger, if you must know."

"I'm not an idiot, Clary! You were spying on me and Simon!"

"No, she's actually telling the truth," Jace confirms. "We were looking for the badger. You just happened to turn up in the middle of our search, so really, you were intruding on _us._"

"And the badger," I add.

"And the badger." Jace nods.

"I really don't understand the two of you sometimes," Simon's gaze flicks between us warily, before he gestures for Isabelle to head back inside with him.

_Neither do I, Simon. _

The rest of the weekend passes without much more incidence. The boys spend the majority of the day practicing so I don't get to spend any more time with Jace alone; then some mechanic that Jordan recommends comes around to fix Jonathan's car so he can drop the boys home. He's a rather large fellow called Bat. My parents come home later that evening, relieved to see that the house is still intact. Since Mum was the one who had agreed to let the band stay over, Dad had no idea about it, and he was furious when he found out that four other adolescent boys had been allowed to stay in the house without adult supervision, particularly Jace.

"So where did they all sleep?" Valentine began the interrogations on Sunday morning.

"Downstairs, Dad," Jonathan said.

"I'm asking your sister, not you!" Dad turned to face me. Clearly, he still hadn't quite forgiven Jonathan for the hair-dying-family-shaming incident. "Where did they sleep, Clarissa?"

"Like Jon said, downstairs."

"And where did _you_ sleep?" His stare was unwavering.

"Upstairs," I sighed.

"Where did Jonathan sleep?"

"Downstairs."

"Where did Isabelle sleep?"

"Upstairs."

"Where did Alec sleep?"

"Downstairs."

"Where did Jace sleep?"

"Upstairs."

"WHAT!?"

"What?" I looked up tiredly, then realised my mistake. Damn my father and his mind games.

"THAT IMPERTINENT RUFFIAN! I KNEW IT!" Dad rose from the table, the vein pulsing in his forehead again. Seriously though, who says 'impertinent ruffian' these days?

"I meant downstairs!" I stood up too, holding my hands up as if he were about to arrest me.

"I could see it in his eyes!" Dad yelled, completely ignoring me. He paced around the kitchen as Jonathan and I tried to avoid stepping in his path. "That day I found him in your bedroom, I could sense uncontrolled burning desire. I know it well from my own teenage days." My mouth fell open, though I tried to erase the last part from my mind. I would probably die on the spot if I ever tried to conjure up that particular mental image.

"Wait, what the hell was Jace doing in your bedroom?" Jonathan's head snapped towards me. There was a strange look on his face, an emotion I couldn't quite place. He's normally so apathetic about most things, I guess it was just weird for me to see him so ruffled.

"We were just working on our English project, that's all." I shook my head. Jonathan said nothing. "There's nothing going on between me and Jace, okay Dad!?" Well, it was the truth, wasn't it? It's not like they needed to know I was hoping for that to change. Very soon, preferably. "He was downstairs, with the rest of the boys. Isabelle was the only other person in my room."

"Then why did you say…"

"It's nine o' clock on a Sunday morning. My brain does not function well at this time, you know that."

"Hmmmm," Dad placed his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowing to slits. "Unfortunately something else you seem to have inherited from your mother's side. Morgensterns have no problems with early mornings. In Switzerland, we'd be out at the crack of dawn…" And so he spent the next hour or so reminiscing about his early years as a Swiss boy, a story we'd had to endure countless times already. Though at least this had helped him forget about the argument and Jace. For now.

On Monday morning, Isabelle grabs me on my way to English. Now that everything's been cleared up between us, English Lit classes with Jace are going to be much more interesting. It's almost ridiculous how much my feelings towards him have changed. Over the space of a weekend, he's gone from being the source of all worldly dread and pain to the catalyst of my inner butterfly army. Oh yeah, they're still going strong. If there were an Olympics for butterflies, my crazy critters would win everything. Apart from synchronised swimming. I'm still working on that.

"I told him!" Isabelle exclaims, a little out of breath. I turn to face her, noticing the wild flush on her cheeks.

"Told who what?" I'm still a bit distracted by my insect training.

"Simon!" She says, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. Now I finally pay attention.

"What? HOW!?"

"Well, yesterday, he invited me around to play Skyrim with him. It was really fun at first, I mean, I liked slaughtering the entire population of White Run in wolf-form, but after a while I was getting worried he was more interested in the game, than the fact that I was playing it. So I just blurted it out. I beheaded the last villager and just said it." She grins at me and I can't help but squeal. How romantic.

"So what exactly did you say? What happened? Tell me everything, I'm ready." I jump up and down a bit, arms flailing. My real life OTP is canon, hell yeah.

"I said, 'Simon, I think I love you.'" She bites her lip, waiting for my reaction. My jaw falls to the floor.

"And what did he say?" I choke out.

"Well, he didn't say anything for a while," she snickers. "He just kind of stared at me, almost exactly like you're doing right now. It must have lasted at least ten minutes. I started playing the game again while I waited for him to respond. I mean, obviously it would come as a shock for someone as drop dead gorgeous as me to suddenly declare her love to you. Then when he finally recovered, he sort of coughed for a bit, and then he just straightened up and said, 'I know.'"

"Oh my God," I burst out laughing. Simon had always said that if he met 'the one,' he'd want their declaration of love to match Han Solo and Princess Leia's from Star Wars. Han Solo said 'I love you,' and Leia said, 'I know.' I guess it didn't quite work out that way for him, so in an attempt to salvage the fantasy, he decided to play Leia. I'm never going to let him live this down.

"I know, right?" Isabelle rolls her eyes. "Luckily this is one marathon I vaguely remember you guys watching, so I could see what he was doing. He stuttered for a bit after that, to the extent where I actually had to ask if he was okay, but eventually he just admitted to me – and this is the best part…" She pauses dramatically, even though I know what's coming. "He's been in love with me for _years_!"

"Aaaah!" I decide to freak out with her anyway, revelling in the moment. We jump up and down in _synchronisation._ Hell yeah, training has begun. "Oh, Isabelle that's so fantastic. I'm so happy for you both!"

"Me too!" Isabelle looks like she could float up in the air at any moment. She's practically radiant. "So now, I am officially a taken woman! For real this time, though. All we have to do now is find you someone and then we could go on double dates!"

"Yeah…" I trail off. "That would be very convenient." It's just a shame that the only guy I am interested in, probably doesn't feel the same way about me. Okay, who am I kidding? There's no way he feels the same way about me. I'm just Jonathan's insane little sister who he occasionally gets on with.

"Clary?"

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, I'm listening." I force a smile.

"The bell just rang, you should probably get to class anyway. We can discuss this later."

Yippee, I can't wait.

"Oh, and Clary?" She says, just before she turns into the next corridor.

"Yeah?"

"He's staring at you."

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**Haha that last bit probably came off a bit more creepy than I intended :P You'll find out who the creepy starer (that should seriously be a word if it isn't) is on Sunday!**

**One more thing about my updating schedule, I'm going to try to go back to normal, but I can't guarantee the next couple of Wednesdays just yet because I literally got a job at the last minute before Uni and I work full-time on weekdays, so it depends on how shattered I am. Sundays are definite though. I'm actually exhausted right now, hence why the chapter isn't super-long but you've been waiting so long already, I couldn't make you wait one more day for an update. I'll just have to be a zombie all day tomorrow at work :B Let me know what you thought though, I really hope you like it. Again, I might not be able to reply to all of you until the weekend, but I promise I'll get round to it so don't think I don't appreciate every single review. I do. I love you guys. **

**See you in a few days :D**

**smim xx**


	13. Chapter 13: Trying to deal with Johan

**Wow, I cannot believe how many of you there are out there D: Thank you so much for sticking with me and I absolutely loved reading all of your comments. And so the identity of the creepy starer will finally be revealed...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters, though Magnandalf is totally mine.**

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**Chapter 13: Trying to deal with Johan**

"_Oh, and Clary?" She says, just before she turns into the next corridor._

"_Yeah?"_

"_He's staring at you."_

I turn to see a figure clad all in black. He's wearing tight skinny jeans, slightly ripped at the knees, and a loose-fitting shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Jace.

He leans by the door to our classroom, hands in his pockets. Isabelle's right. He's looking straight at me, that infuriatingly attractive smirk on his face. His hair is slightly mussed, as if he'd just run a hand through it. Great, now I'm imagining running _my_ hand through it. I think my butterflies have all had mini heart attacks because I literally can't feel anything right now.

_Breathe, Clary. Breathe._

I let out a shaky breath as I struggle to regain my composure.

"Good morning," he drawls as I walk over to him, slightly unsteady on my feet.

"Hello," I say, dragging out the 'o.'

"Everything alright?" He raises an eyebrow. Smug little bugger, I bet he knows exactly what he's doing to me.

"Everything's fine," I roll my eyes at him, letting my annoyance distract me from his inhuman perfection. "Why'd you ask?"

"No reason," he shrugs. "You just seem a little hot around the collar, that's all." Then he grins and ushers me into the classroom, his hand hovering behind my back. I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other as I make my way to the desk we share, hyperaware of how close he is. Suddenly, sitting so close to Jace for an entire hour doesn't seem like a good idea. I have serious concerns for my health. And my butterflies. I think he's actually killed them all. Poor things, they never even saw it coming.

Luckily, Mr Aldertree is already there so Jace doesn't get a chance to say anything else as we take our seats. I take my books out of my bag one by one, attempting to be graceful. Normally I just empty them all out on to the table and take my pick. Jace doesn't seem to notice.

"Good morning, Class!" Mr Aldertree claps his hands together. "We all know what day it is! I'd like you all to have your assignments in front of you." Assignment? What assignment? "I'm so excited to see the chapters you all wrote about your partners!"

Oh crap,_ that_ assignment! I begin to panic as I spot the document sticking out of my notebook. It's not that I haven't finished it, no. Actually, I finished it on Thursday. And that's the problem. I wrote the chapter while I was still on bad terms with Jace, and the writing certainly reflects that. I was meant to redo it yesterday but I got distracted by Guitar Hero for about…err seven hours…and okay, you can see where this is going, right?!

I turn to Jace who sits with the project out in front of him, the picture of ease. My hand moves towards my notebook.

Let's think about this objectively.

Mr Aldertree asked for a descriptive text, written in the style of any genre, with our partners as the protagonist.

Well, it's definitely descriptive. Jace is the protagonist. As an independent piece of writing, it's actually not all that bad. In fact, it may be some of my best work - I was very inspired at the time. Plus, it's _fictional_ so, really, I have nothing to be ashamed of.

Eh, why not?

I grab the edge of my assignment, slowly pulling it out of the book.

"But first," Mr Aldertree says. "I'd like for you to swap it with your partner so they can give you some peer feedback."

I freeze and retract my hand immediately. Jace's reaction is even more surprising though. His eyes widen and he snatches his assignment off of the table, shoving it into his backpack. Then he crosses his arms over his chest. Mr Aldertree walks over to our desk.

"Do we have a problem here?" He asks, looking at the two of us. It's almost as if he's daring us to make trouble.

"Actually, Sir, I'm sorry but I left my assignment at home." Jace lies, an apologetic look on his face. What could he possibly have written that was so bad he didn't want me to read it? So bad that he'd rather risk a late mark on his record than have me see it?

"But I just saw it in front of you," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. There's no way I'm letting him get out of this one so easily.

"You must be mistaken, Clarissa." Jace says between gritted teeth. "There's nothing on my desk."

"No, I think that it is you Jace, who is mistaken." I retort, smirking at him. "I believe you just put it into your backpack."

"You believe wrongly," he laughs awkwardly, shaking his head at Mr Aldertree.

"Give me your bag, Mr Herondale." Mr Aldertree holds his hand out expectantly. "Now, please." Jace turns to glare at me, before reaching by the leg of his chair and dropping the strap of his bag onto Mr Aldertree's hand. The teacher stoops a bit at the sudden weight, then drags the bag onto the table. He gestures for Jace to retrieve the piece of work himself. Jace reluctantly reaches into the bag, making a show of rummaging around for a bit, before pulling out his assignment.

"Well, would you look at that?" He says, faking astonishment. "I wonder how that got there!?"

"As do I," Mr Aldertree looks down at him, rather bored. "Now pass it to Miss Morgenstern."

I hold my hand out to Jace, a grin on my face.

"Not so fast," Jace moves it out of my reach. "_Miss Morgenstern_ hasn't given me her assignment yet."

That wipes the grin straight off my face.

"Well, that shouldn't be too arduous a task since it's right there," Mr Aldertree nods towards my notebook. Damn, why do I always put things in upside down? I'd only pulled out part of my assignment, but it was enough for him to read the title.

Ah well, I guess things can't stay peachy forever. I slide the rest of the assignment out of the book and hold it out towards Jace, my other hand asking for his own work.

"On three," he says, just as hesitant as I am. "One, two…." We make the exchange at the exact same time, almost ripping the projects out of each other's hands.

I don't wait for Mr Aldertree to leave before flipping to the first page.

The title reads, _Pure Evil._ My mouth drops open as I continue to read.

_Chapter 1: Through A Killer's Eyes_

_I let out a skin-crawling screech of pleasure as I watch the blood drip from my dagger, the metal gleaming in the moonlight. The angel looks even more beautiful in death. He lies there so peacefully that one might think he was just asleep, his radiant blonde hair matted out in a halo around him. But I know better. I smile as I see the red stain spreading out across his expensive shirt, the contents of his pure heart spilled out for all to see. _

_I wipe the dagger on my leather sleeve, giggling away to myself manically. _

"_Come Smeliorn," I say, calling for my servant. He's a pitiful creature, resembling an Orc more than an elf. His straggly grey hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and he hobbles into the room with an uneven gait. When people ask why he limps so, we tell them it is because he was shot in the leg many years ago. What they don't realise is that underneath the clearance-bought jeans he wears, hide two gruesome protuberances. We manage to pass them off as legs, but if the humans were ever to discover what he really was, they'd most likely send him off to the labs for dissection. However, his complete lack of intelligence and self-awareness makes him a malleable servant, and so I choose to keep him with me, despite how senseless others would consider me for it. They often wonder how I can tolerate the smell._

"_Yes, mistress." Smeliorn bows at my feet, his insufferable voice taunting the angel, even in death. He snorts occasionally in between his pathetic excuse for speech. "What would you have me do, mistress?"_

_I circle the angel, deep in thought. It was truly a shame that I had to kill him, but it had to be done. His divine looks and inhumane strength were too much to compete with. The balance of the world was at risk. And so I had to end him. For the good of evil, Johan had to die. Of course, the immenseness of my task is not to be overlooked. Johan fought bravely, in fact, he was far more skilled than I. He parried my blows with incredible speed and outwitted me at every turn. If it weren't for the innate goodness of his heart, which eventually halted him from killing me, I would not have had the chance to meet his mercy with betrayal, and plunge my weapon into his chest._

_Even as the life slipped from him, he smiled at me kindly. _

"_I hope you find happiness," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. And then the light left his once luminous eyes, and darkness fell upon the world. The memory brings me an incomprehensible amount of joy._

"_Yes, dear Angel." I whisper, stroking his bloodied wings. "I have now found happiness." The feathers darken between my fingers._

"_Mistress?" Smeliorn whimpers, crawling to my side._

"_Gorge upon his flesh," I say, laughter bubbling in my throat once again..._

-o-O-o-

"JACE, WHAT THE HELL!?" I push the story away from me, gaping at him. I don't even know what to think.

"What?" He looks up from my own story, an innocent expression on his face.

"I MURDERED YOU!?"

"No," he shakes his head at me, though I can tell he's nervous. "You murdered Johan, the angel."

"JACE!"

"I was pissed at you, okay?" He holds his hands up in defence. "I wrote it last Monday."

"I just…" I struggle for words. "I don't know what to say."

"At least you were part of an epic battle though!" Now Jace looks annoyed. "YOU SHAT ON ME!"

"What?" I look back up at him, suddenly very confused.

"You made me into a statue, and then you shat on me." He glares at me.

"I…" Okay, so that might be a little bit true. In my story, he was an evil hermit of a man who constantly shooed away the dove that used to visit his home, in the hope of offering her friendship. And then one day, because his heart was made of stone, the wizard Magnandalf came by and turned him into stone himself. After that, the dove may or may not have come back to his house and excreted on him. I don't quite remember the details. I try to contain a smile. "The dove did, actually. It wasn't me."

"Is that so?" He cocks his head to the side.

"Yep," I bite my lip. "Doves aren't the brightest of creatures. They can't help who they…err…poo on."

"Mhhmmm…" He doesn't look convinced.

"And Thursdays aren't good days for them. They get really moody on Thursdays."

"Any reason why?"

"The wind shifts every Thursday and it puts them completely off balance. Like, they completely lose their minds and…"

"…have bowel problems?"

"Exactly. Their bowel movements become very sporadic…"

"…so they accidentally shit on poor unsuspecting rock-hard men?"

I just stare at him. I may have momentarily flat-lined.

"I meant rock-men!" Jace splutters, eyes bulging. "Men who are made of rock. S-stone. Statues. That's what-…you know what-"

"Yeah," I mumble, my face probably camouflaged with my hair at this point.

"Okay, so can we just forget the last half hour ever happened?" He offers, an unusual blush creeping across his own cheeks. "Johan included?"

"Yes, let's." I agree, also wanting to just erase the past thirty minutes from my mind. "You know I didn't mean it, right? Well I did, at the time, but not that to that extent."

"Yeah, I know. It was a pretty intense week and we do get carried away easily."

"I guess we are both rather prone to overreaction…"

"In retrospect, we probably should have taken Theatre Studies," he smirks.

"Perhaps," I smirk back. "Though I don't think they'd be able to handle us."

"Perhaps," Jace grins, casually throwing his arm over the back of my chair. He winks at me. "Too much drama."

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**Aha hope you liked it! I know not much happened plot-wise but these two had to deal with their unfinished business first, so I thought you might enjoy seeing the final products of their fortnight project. If enough people want it, I may write up Clary's chapter at some point too and post it as one of the outtakes I'm thinking of adding. Another outtake will probably be Clary's date with Meliorn, though I'll get round to those once the main story's done so there's still AGES to go until then. **

**A lot of you are asking for Clace now and all I can say is, patience young grasshoppers. As you can see from this chapter, it's coming. Pretty soon. Just hang on a bit and you'll get what you want. Remember, she's only just admitted to herself that she actually likes him, so it would be completely unrealistic for her to fall into his arms a couple of days later. It has to build up. And it will. I promise.**

**Thank you for reading! You guys are literally the best people ever.**

**smim xx**


	14. Chapter 14: Trying not to be Quasimodo

_**Saturday**_** update!? Sorry for going rogue on you :P Well actually, it is 1am so technically it's Sunday, but still. I was actually planning to post this on Wednesday but I fell asleep half way through (haha the joys of full-time employment) so I rescheduled for Sunday, but since I finished it tonight, I thought I might as well give it to you early! I'll get round to replying to you all in the next couple of days, though remember I can't do so if you're a guest reviewer or your PM feature isn't enabled, for those of you who have been asking. I'm not deliberately ignoring you guys, I just can't message you back! Thank you so much to you all anyway. OVER FIVE HUNDRED REVIEWS!? BLOODY HELL YOU LOT**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters. Nor do I own a bike with a basket. Though I've always wanted a bike with a basket.**

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**Chapter 14: Trying not to become Quasimodo**

I sit across the lunch table from Isabelle and Simon, wondering how best to break the silence. The contrast between their facial expressions is so stark, it's almost comical. Isabelle is wearing possibly the largest grin her face could physically bear, seeming like she's about to explode at any moment. Simon, on the other hand, looks like he might have accidentally drank the three-month old chocolate milkshake bottle I found in his underwear drawer a little while ago. Don't ask what it was doing there. Don't ask what I was doing there, either. Just, don't.

"Lovely weather we're having…" I blurt out, for lack of a better icebreaker.

"Indeed," Simon mumbles. His mouth hardly moves at all when he speaks, as if he really were trying not to projectile vomit the contents of his stomach all over me. He'd make a convincing ventriloquist act. "I do hope the weather stays this…mild."

"What are you guys on about?" Isabelle's grin falters as she glances between the two of us. "It's been overcast all day."

"But it hasn't actually rained," I point out.

"True," Isabelle considers this for a moment. "Okay, seriously though, why are you guys acting so weird? We're meant to be celebrati-"

"Aaaah ah ah," Simon interrupts her, his eyes widening.

"But Clary already-"

"Aaaah…" Simon wails again.

"Simo-"

"Aaaaaaaaah," he slaps his hand over Isabelle's mouth. Oh dear lord, he's finally lost it.

"SIMON!" Isabelle groans, her voice muffled by his hand. "She knows, Simon! She already knows!"

"About the two of you?" I ask, actually curious now. "Obviously, I know that. What else is there?"

Simon's head snaps towards me. _"You know!?"_

"Well yes, Isabelle told me this morning. Congratulations, by the way!" I grin toothily at the both of them. Simon's hand drops from Isabelle's face at the same time that his jaw falls open.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Isabelle sighs. "What am I going to do with you, Lewis?"

"Why didn't you want me to know?" I say, actually feeling a little hurt now. I assumed he'd be dying to tell me.

"I did, I did!" Simon holds his hand up towards me. "I just…I didn't want to tell you in front of the whole school. I was going to tell you at our rescheduled Death Note marathon tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Simon," Isabelle pats him on the head. "I didn't realise you wanted to tell her first. I just couldn't keep it to myself this morning."

"That's okay, Iz," Simon shrugs. They smile at each other for a little while, completely locked in the other's gaze. It's cute for the first few seconds, but if this is going to happen every lunch, I may have to find another table to sit at.

"Wait, you were going to wait _two whole days_ to tell me!?" I gasp, the realisation occurring to me belatedly.

"I…" Simon looks at me apologetically. "Well…err…hey! Look, it's Jace! Hello, Jace!"

"Lewis," Jace nods at him, narrowing his eyes at Simon's uncharacteristic enthusiasm. He's magically appeared right behind my bench, Jonathan close behind. I force myself to turn my head slowly, trying not to seem too eager to see him.

"Oh, I didn't see you there Herondale," I say, playing it cool. I casually lean my elbow against the table, though the first time I completely miss my mark and end up bashing it against the leg instead. Once I've finally settled into my nonchalant pose, I dare to look up at him.

"Likewise, Midge," Jace smirks. "That's a really unnaturally low angle for my neck."

"That's what she said," Jonathan snickers, striding up to us.

"Ewww Jon," I whack him in the legs with my backpack as Jace bursts into laughter. "What are you guys doing here anyway?"

"Is it a crime for me to want to visit my little sister at lunch?" Jonathan pouts at me.

"You've never done it before, so I assumed it must have been," I deadpan.

"Well, I've decided to start living life on the edge," he rolls his eyes at me. "Okay fine, I'm not giving you a lift home today. That's what I wanted to tell you."

"What!?" I stand up, because really, my neck is starting to hurt from having to crane to look at them both. "Why?"

"We're taking Magnus with us, so there won't be any space for you." Jonathan says as if it's no big deal to just abandon your one and only sibling, though Jace actually looks a little apologetic.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Whatever you like," he shrugs. "Follow your heart. Live your dreams. All that crap."

"Jon!"

"Walk home."

"_You_ walk home."

"Alas, as tempting as that sounds, I'm the only one insured to drive the car," he shrugs again, acting like this is some great burden.

"Nope," I say, crossing my arms. "That's not good enough."

"Well, there's nothing else I can do."

"Really?" I narrow my eyes, noticing a familiar group of girls making their way across the field. "I'm really disappointed to hear that, Jonathan. Very disappointed."

I push him aside, making my way towards them. It's Jonathan's very own morning crew, also referred to as the ones who now believe Jon is, in fact, Joanna.

"Clary?" Jonathan's tone takes on a hint of panic as he notices where I'm going. "Clary, what are you doing?"

"Walking," I say, continuing on my path. "Just like you told me to." He jogs up to walk alongside me.

"Clary?"

"You can go now, Jonathan."

"Clary, stop." He gulps as the girls finally look up from their conversation, noticing the two of us.

"Hello," I hold out my hand for the nearest one to shake. She's a dazzling blonde with angular features and a blood-red smile. "Clarissa Morgenstern. I thought it was about time I finally introduced myself."

"Errrm," she feebly grips my hand, glancing at Jonathan over my head. "I'm Camille. Camille Belcourt."

"It's very nice to meet you, Camille," I grin at her. "Jonathan's told me so much about you."

"He has?" She raises a single perfectly threaded eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, you're all he ever talks about…"

"I…errm…" Jonathan begins, then he grabs hold of my arm. "Excuse us for one second." He pulls me back a bit, turning so that I'm hidden from view.

"Clary, what the hell are you doing?"

"I was _trying_ to talk to Camille before you so rudely pulled me away," I say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Okay, let me rephrase that, why are you so determined to ruin my life?"

"I'm just looking out for myself, Jon. I'm going to have to walk home tonight, and I seem to remember that those girls you're friends with don't live too far from us. Wouldn't you rather I had company? This way, I can walk home with Camille and her friends and talk to them the whole way there." I smile. "It's going to be a lot of fun."

"You are a demon, Clarissa Adele Morgenstern," he glares at me, nostrils flaring. "Straight from the pits of hell."

"Well, I am _your_ sister."

"Fine, how much do you want?"

"Not much," I say. "I just want to make sure I won't be walking home tonight. I have a ton of books to take home for English Lit and I'd rather not come into school looking like Quasimodo tomorrow."

"Alright," he groans. "I'll figure something out."

"You do that." I pat him on the shoulder, then move around him to bid farewell to Camille and her pack. "Sorry guys, I'd love to stay and talk but I'm going to be late for class. Maybe some other time?" I don't wait for them to reply. "Great, see you later then."

"Yeah, err...bye." Jonathan smiles at Camille awkwardly one more time, then ushers me back towards the main building. "Stop it." He bats my hand away when I start to wave goodbye. "Just keep walking, Clary. Just keep walking."

-o-O-o-

"This!?" I say, gaping at Sebastian. "This is what you figured out?"

Sebastian stands proudly beside his bicycle, Jonathan grinning away next to him.

"Now you won't have to walk home!" Jon ruffles my hair. "Just like you wanted."

"I didn't want to ride on Sebastian's bicycle!"

"What's wrong with my bike?" Sebastian looks genuinely offended.

"Yeah, Clary." Jonathan tuts at me. "Look, it even comes with its own little basket."

"There's nothing wrong with your bike, Seb." I explain, though really, it looks like something that belongs on the side streets of Paris. "I just don't understand how I'm meant to ride with you. There's only one seat."

"Oh, that's easily rectified," Sebastian says, adjusting some sort of button underneath the seat. He pulls out a lever that he proceeds to move upwards and then, transformer-style, the small bicycle seat becomes an extended two-person contraption. He stands back, appreciating his handiwork.

"What just happened?" I stare at the bike with a mixture of awe and worry.

"I just made a few little changes to it," Sebastian shrugs. "My aunt…err…makes me give her a ride to the local shop sometimes." He twitches uncomfortably.

"See, now there's no problem!" Jonathan grins. "As soon as Jace gets here, we can all make a move together. Thanks for doing this, mate." He pats Sebastian on the shoulder and then walks off towards his car, leaving me alone with him.

"So…" I say, looking up at the dark-haired boy. "How's life?" Of all the band members, Sebastian's always been the one I've felt less familiar towards. My friendship with Isabelle has meant I've known Alec for a long time, and similarly Maia's relationship with Jordan has meant I've gotten to know him more personally. As for Jace, well that goes without saying, really. I've known him longer than I've even known Isabelle. So that just leaves Sebastian. Since he lived in France for a while before his aunt moved here, Aline isn't as close to him as she have been otherwise, being his cousin and all, so I haven't had a chance to get to know him through her either. From what I've witnessed of him over the years, he's just as cocky as Jace and Jonathan, but in a much more subtle way, and he's definitely been quieter this year since his aunt has cracked down on him. I secretly suspect the manic rhythm-guitarist attitude is more of just a cover to hide how much of a softie he really is. I mean, cycling your aunt down to the local shops doesn't scream rebellious teenager at me. But what do I know?

"It's okay," Sebastian smiles awkwardly. "How's err…your life?"

"Yeah," I nod slowly. "It's good."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

We stand in silence for a while.

"So how's your aunt?"

"She's okay."

"What's she up to these days?"

"Nothing much."

"Still working at that café? The one with the good hot chocolate?"

"Nope."

"Oh. That's a shame."

"Yeah."

I stare at my feet, wishing that Jace would hurry up so we can start to head home. Though by the way things are going now, I'm not sure I'd like to be stuck making small talk with Sebastian for the next thirty minutes.

"Clarissa?"

"Yeah?" I glance back up at him, glad that he's attempting to start the conversation again.

"I...errm…" He purses his lips. "No wait, I forgot."

"Oh, okay," I sigh. This is painful. Seriously painful. On second thoughts, I'd much rather walk home, even if I do look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame tomorrow.

"I remember!"

"Great," I force a smile.

"How's your dad?"

My smile falters. Seriously, I'm not all that surprised he's still single.

"He's not too bad, thanks."

"Cool."

"Yeah. _Cool._"

"Sebastian!?" A voice calls from behind. It's Jace, thank goodness.

"Jace!" Sebastian looks just as relieved as I am. Jace half runs towards us, his hair flying in front of his eyes. He flicks his fringe out of the way as he approaches us.

"Slight change of plan, man."

"What do you mean?"

"You're riding in the car."

"What, why?" Sebastian grabs hold of the handle of his bike, tethering himself to it.

"Just because. I'll take the bike." Jace reaches for the other handle.

"But my aunt won't let me…"

"I'm sure she won't mind this once, especially since you're not exactly in the right condition to be riding it. She'll want you to be safe, above all things."

"What's wrong with my condition?" Sebastian holds the bike closer to him, taking on a defensive position. I just stand by and watch. I don't even know what's happening, though obviously I have no qualms with Jace riding me home. It's a burden I'm quite willing to bear.

"You know," Jace gestures to Sebastian's leg. "Your little accident."

"What accident?" Sebastian looks down.

"Don't you remember?" Jace's eyes widen. "This is worse than I thought. You must have had a pretty bad concussion."

"I don't….I don't understand…" Sebastian examines his own leg.

"You had a pretty nasty fall when we were playing football earlier," Jace explains, nothing but concern in his expression. "Jonathan tackled you near the goal-line."

"I do remember Jonathan tackling me…but…" Sebastian furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "I don't remember passing out…"

"Well, you wouldn't, would you?"

"I guess…"

"Go on dude," Jace places his hand on Sebastian's arm. "You take it easy now. I've got it from here."

"I…" Sebastian looks between the two of us, still completely baffled, then shrugs and makes his way towards the car.

"Jonathan knocked Sebastian out?" I gasp, as soon as Sebastian is out of earshot. Jace swings his leg over the seat, settling himself on the bike.

"Hop on," he says, cocking his head at me. I drop my books into the front basket and then gingerly place my hand on Jace's shoulder as I sit myself down behind him. The seat has been extended, but there's still not quite enough space. Sebastian's rides with his aunt must be very uncomfortable indeed. I shudder at the thought.

"Are you cold?" Jace asks, looking over at me.

"Nope, I'm fine," I mumble. "You didn't answer my question though."

"Hold on," Jace begins to pedal, causing me to grab onto his jacket as the bike lurches forward. I wrap my arms around his waist, the tilt of the seat being just steep enough so that I can peer over his shoulder. "And no, actually. I lied."

"Jon didn't knock Sebastian out?"

"Nah, it was just a good tackle, is all."

"Then why did you…"

"He's not the safest of cyclists. I thought it would be in your best interest if I were to take over."

I smile despite myself, glad that he can't see me.

"Since when have you had my best interests at heart?"

"Since I decided it would be better for me to stay in your good books, rather than risk you brutally murdering me in an epic showdown."

Jonathan overtakes us in his car then, honking as he passes. Magnus and Jordan wave at us through the windows. I stick my tongue out in response, while Jace rings the little bell on Sebastian's bike. Within seconds they've driven far out of sight. It's going to be a long ride home. _What a shame._

"So you admit you were Johan?"

"Johan is a fictional character, Midge," Jace chuckles. His laughter vibrates in his chest, sending little shocks down my arms. I'm suddenly very aware of how close we are. "Though I will admit, I do have a lot in common with him."

"And what exactly would that be?"

"Well, for one, many have compared my beauty to that of an angel."

"Many being your mother?"

"_And_ my grandmother."

"Okay, what else?"

"Hmmm," he tilts his head, deep in thought.

Five minutes later, he still hasn't come up with an answer.

"Are you seriously finding it that hard to think of a similarity?" I say, finally. "I mean, let's face it, Johan is you."

"So you agree my divine looks and inhuman strength are such that they threaten the balance of the world?" He turns back briefly to look at me, smirking.

"I think you're definitely irritating enough to incite murder, yes."

"That hurts me, Midge. That hurts me right in my pure, innately good heart."

I can't help it. I burst out laughing.

"Though the real reason I wasn't speaking, is because I was just trying to coax my inner SatNav into telling me where we were. It's not being very cooperative, I'm afraid."

My laughter cuts short as I gaze around frantically. The streets around me look completely unfamiliar. Plus, since the evenings have been getting darker lately, it won't be long before we can't see much at all.

"Jace, what did you do!?"

"I don't know, I just kept cycling straight."

"I thought you knew the way to my house?" We're lost. I can't believe it. It's only a thirty-minute cycle home, and he's gotten us lost.

"I do, by _car_. The cycle lanes are completely different. It's an easy mistake to make." He sounds less confident than before. Oh god, he really isn't joking. He has no idea where we are, and neither do I.

"So why did you keep going!?"

"I was…err…distracted?"

"This would never have happened with Sebastian…" I grumble, shivering with the cold. "Wait, why are you _still_ cycling? JACE!" I notice he's still going straight along the cycle path, probably getting further and further away from where we need to be.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"YES I WANT YOU TO STOP!"

"Geez, Midge. Right in the ear." He pulls on the brakes and the bike slides to a halt. I rely on him to hold it upright, since my own feet actually don't touch the floor. "What now?"

"We'll have to ask for directions."

"Ask who? You want to just knock on someone's door?"

"Well, do you have any better ideas?" I grip his arms as I hop down from the bike, rather ungracefully.

"I could cycle back the way we came."

"It'll be dark by then, and like you said, you don't know the cycle paths. You wouldn't be able to get us home anyway."

He glares at me for a few seconds before sighing and putting the safety brake on the bike.

"Fine, but I'm picking the house." He stalks away from me, heading towards the little cottages at the end of the street.

"How about that one?" I point out a cottage with a stout green door. "It has flower baskets. I doubt a serial killer would have flower baskets."

"I said _I'm_ picking the house." Jace doesn't even turn to look.

"Alright, keep your hair on," I mumble, rolling my eyes.

"This one," he says, stopping at a house with a bright yellow Lamborghini in the driveway.

"Are you just stopping because of the car?"

"Serial killers would have less conspicuous vehicles," he explains, shaking his head at me.

"But really it's because of the car?" I stand beside him at the front door.

"Get behind me, Midge."

"Jace…"

"Get behind me." I look to see if he's kidding, but his expression is completely serious.

"Fine," I sigh, moving so that I'm half behind him.

"All the way, Clary."

"But I want to see…"

"Alright, three-quarters of the way."

"What the hell is three-quarters of my body!?"

In the end, I'm completely hidden by him, but he allows me to poke my head around his arm. He raps the wooden knocker three times.

"There's a bell, Jace," I point out to him.

"Shush," he covers my face with his hand.

"Jace...I can't see!"

I manage to push his hand away just as the door creaks open. Jace tenses up. I brace myself, prepared for some axe-wielding lunatic. The door flies open all the way, revealing a slight figure.

"YOU!?" The three of us gasp in unison.

* * *

**Another cliffie muhahaha :P Though since I have one extra day now, I may well be able to get it to you by Wednesday. Again, I can't promise anything but I shall do my best! Thank you again for reading and while I have your attention, I'd really appreciate it if those of you who are on tumblr would do me a massive favour and check out the art from the blog with the URL jadejake. I don't normally do promos, but she's one of my bestest friends ever and she's recently read TMI and TID so she decided to start drawing fanart! She's also started on some fanart for THIS FIC which obviously I'M SO FREAKING EXCITED ABOUT, MY LOVE HAS NO BOUNDS, but I'll let you know as and when that's up. She's only got a couple of Shadowhunter-related drawings up so far, but she's got plenty more original ones coming so if you could just reblog one picture, we'd be forever in your debt. And they're not going to be just normal drawings either, they're the kind of ones where you have this amazing situation in your head, like what if so-and-so met this person. She just has the power to make them come to life. Spoiler alert: There will be TMI/TID crossovers! She's already a pretty established artist in her current fandoms, but she's new to being a Shadowhunter and I want her to stay, so a signal boost would be fantastic. If you guys have anything you'd like me to check out in return, I'd be more than happy to. THANK YOU!**

**Till the next time my lovelies...**

**smim xx**


	15. Chapter 15: Trying to keep Jace calm

**WASSUP!? 420 followers, that's _high_ ;) Seriously though, 72 reviews since my last update!? I love you guys so much. I literally want to hug each and every one of you, which is actually very unusual for me because I'm not a very hug-y person. Honestly, you can ask my friends. Unless of course you happen to be my sexy, blonde, lead-guitarist future husband called Zack, which for the record, that one time, was the best hug I've ever had and probably ever will have. Though I am seeing him again in December, so who knows!? But anyway, I digress. Point is, it is unlikely for me to initiate hugs with people, so it means a lot that I would do that for you guys. Thank you. I love you.**

**Also well done to the majority of you for actually guessing right this time :P Though I did a bit of research on badgers and they do look different in certain parts of the world, so I get why those of you outside Europe might not have got that the first time round!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters, and I probably need to go to the shop pretty soon or my Ribena will run out too.**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Trying to keep Jace calm**

_Jace tenses up. I brace myself, prepared for some axe-wielding lunatic. The door flies open all the way, revealing a slight figure. _

"_YOU!?" The three of us gasp in unison._

"You…" Jace says again, sneering at the man before us. Meliorn glares back at him, the two of them locked in each other's gazes. I take advantage of their preoccupancy to move out from behind Jace's protective stance.

"Clary!" Meliorn's eyes snap towards me immediately, a slow grin creeping along his face. He's dressed in a smart black suit, something I'd associate more with attending a televised premiere rather than just lounging around at home. Then again, he does have a canary yellow Lamborghini in his driveway, so perhaps there's just a lot more to the silver-blonde guitarist than meets the eye. "I didn't quite see you there behind your brother."

"I'm not her brother," Jace spits, trying to stand in front of me once again. "I already told you that."

"Ah yes," Meliorn nods, smirking at him. "That evening on the porch, I remember now."

Jace's jaw clenches at this, probably recalling exactly what occurred that dreadful night.

"Meliorn!" I step in between the two of them, attempting to diffuse the tension.

"Sorry, Clary," Meliorn smiles sweetly at me. He's not sorry at all. "So what brings you to me today?"

"Actually, it was pure luck that we knocked on your door."

"Pure misfortune, rather," Jace mumbles from behind me.

"You see," I continue. "Jace and I got a little lost on the way back from school, and we were just wondering if you might be able to tell us how to get home?"

"You got _lost_!?" Meliorn raises his eyebrows, completely incredulous. "From _school_?"

"Jace has never used the cycle lanes in this area before," I shrug, though I don't blame Meliorn for being shocked. I don't quite understand it myself.

"Aaah," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "So it was Jace who got you lost. That makes more sense."

"Look here, Smeliorn…" Jace makes a move towards him.

"What did you say?" Meliorn hisses.

Seriously, what is wrong with these two? It's like the two of them were mortal enemies in a previous life or something and that their hatred was such that, even now, the mere sight of the other is enough to provoke them. Like, perhaps they were both farmers in ancient rural England and Meliorn poisoned Jace's beloved cow. Only an atrocity like that could justify this sort of behaviour.

"Stop it, the both of you!" I hold my arms out to the sides. "Look, it's getting late and it's going to be dark soon. Could you please just help us out, Meliorn? _Please._ For me."

The silence drags on for a little longer, both of them held in another intense staring contest.

"Please," I say again, placing my hand lightly on Meliorn's arm. He looks down at me briefly, back at Jace, then finally to me again.

"Alright," he says, letting out a breath. "But I'm only talking to you. _He_ can go stand on the pavement."

"Nope," Jace quips immediately. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you. Sorry, Clary." Meliorn steps back inside the cottage, about to close the door on us.

"Wait!" I place my foot on the threshold. "Fine, you can just talk to me. Jace doesn't need to be here."

"If you think there is any way I'm leaving you alone with him, you can -" Jace begins, but I turn and give him such a dark look that he stops himself.

"You got me into this mess, Herondale. Now let me deal with it."

"But Cla-"

"Pavement, Jace," I command, pointing away from the cottage. Jace glowers at me, but takes a couple of steps back.

"Further," Meliorn says to me.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Further."

"Jace!" I roll my eyes, turning back to him. "Bit more."

He flaps his arms in frustration, but does as I say.

"Great," Meliorn grins. "Now, how about a cup of tea?"

"Thank you for the offer, but I really don't have the time. So if you could please just tell us where we need to go…"

"Alright, if that's what you want," Meliorn moves closer to me, making sure that Jace can't hear. I notice said blonde cuss in the background. "So, you say you cycled here?"

"Yep, the bike is just over there by that tree. We didn't want to go any further until we knew where we were."

"That's very sensible," Meliorn nods, taking one more step towards me. He's tall. Probably as tall as Jace. I have to resist the urge to take a step in the opposite direction, for the comfort of my neck if not for the conservation of my personal space. "I'm guessing that was your decision?"

"Well, yeah…"

"I knew it," he bites his lip, running a hand through his hair. "You're a clever girl, Clary. Far too clever to be hanging around with those Mallard Massacre buffoons…"

"Excuse me?" I gasp. Does he not realise he's talking about my brother here? My brother and his best friends. Yes, they may be idiots at times, but I don't take kindly to anyone insulting them. Unless it's me, of course.

"You're excused," Meliorn leans in, brushing a stray hair out of my face. I stiffen at his touch, completely unprepared for such intimacy. _What is he doing?_

"OH _HELL_ NO!" Jace roars from behind me and the next thing I know, he's dragging me backwards. Once I'm halfway down the path, he stalks up towards Meliorn, their faces inches apart. "If you so much as _breathe_ on her again, I will make you wish you'd never been spawned."

"What is your problem, man?" Meliorn straightens up, looking Jace straight in the eyes. I have to give it to him, he doesn't seem intimidated at all. Not many can withstand Jace in all his fiery glory.

"What's _my_ problem? I'm not the one running his slimy, spindly fingers all over her hair."

"Slimy?" Meliorn's eyes bulge. "I'll have you know that these fingers are what made me so irresistible to her in the first place." Okay, _seriously?_ Has he been at the mushrooms or something? Meliorn waves his hand in Jace's face. "She said my strumming technique was very fluid."

"Pah!" Jace scoffs. "She was probably just saying that because she couldn't bring herself to tell you how _awful_ you really are. Your strumming technique is shoddy _at best._"

"You did not just go there!" Meliorn's hand clenches into a fist.

"Oh yes, I did." Jace presses. "And don't even get me started on your two-hand tapping."

"_My_ two-hand tapping!? I could two-hand tap your face right off."

"Err guys…" I whisper, seeing that a few curtains have been pulled aside in the neighbouring houses. People are starting to notice. Part of me knows I should just go in and break it up right now, but the part of me that is finding this incredibly amusing is winning over at present.

"Yeah, probably," Jace laughs cruelly. "Since your fingering is _all over the place._"

Meliorn sucks in a shocked breath.

"Well at least my fingers aren't horribly callused like yours!"

"That's because you aren't a real guitarist," Jace sneers. "My calluses are a testament to the hours I've spent playing. They're my battle wounds. Every true guitarist has calluses."

"Not if you moisturise them daily!" Meliorn screeches, his face turning a peculiar shade of purple. I'd call it puce.

"Only sissies moisturise daily!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"

"YOU HEARD!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I yell, finally deciding to step in. I grab hold of the edge of Jace's shirt, pulling him backwards. "You're acting like a pair of barbarians! I don't care what he did to your cow, this is too far!"

"What?" Jace's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

"WHAT!?" I shout in response, for lack of an explanation. _Geez, Clary, keep the musings to yourself._

"We're leaving." Jace grabs my hand and drags me away from the fuming Meliorn, who looks like he might just explode out of his fancy shirt any second. I guess we'll just have to figure out some other way to get home.

I let Jace lead me back to the bike, his grip so strong it's probably cutting off the blood circulation to my fingers, but I don't care enough to make him let go. Even when we finally get back to the bicycle, he just leans against it for a while as he calms down, his hand still in mine. I don't say a word as I wait for his breathing to slow back to normal. I just stand there opposite him, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that he's still holding onto me. I shouldn't be happy about the fact that he's just had a massive argument with Meliorn, but if he's going to react this way every time, I wouldn't mind it becoming a regular thing. I'm totally cool with him holding my hand to calm down. _Or just generally holding my hand, you know. I'm cool with that too._ The strength of his grip lessens as his anger wanes, but his fingers stay loosely intertwined with mine when he finally looks back up at me.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, glancing up through his long blonde eyelashes. "I got carried away there."

"Yeah," I agree. "You did."

"I just…when he… when…" Jace struggles to find the words. "When he got so close to you like that, I just...it made me so angry that he was…and then…then he _touched_ you and I-I...I just snapped."

"It's okay," I lie, because really, it's not. I don't even know what to say. It's _more_ than okay. I thought he blew his top like that because Meliorn was taking so long to give me the directions. I didn't realise it was because he hated him being so close to me. It doesn't matter if he did it because he was being protective again, or if perhaps, he had some other reason, but the point is he did it _for me_. Jace may not feel about me the same way I feel about him, but that's got to count for something.

"I really am sorry, though," Jace says again. It's weird seeing him so timid and unsure of himself. It's all I can do to not just wrap my arms around him. "Now we don't even know how to get home."

"It's fine. We'll figure it out some-…" I gulp as he subconsciously begins playing with my fingers. "…-how." My mouth is suddenly very dry. How can he not know what he does to me?

He's still looking at me, waiting for me to come up with a solution. _For goodness' sake man, do you think I can form any coherent thoughts at all when you're looking at me like that and talking to me like that and holding me like that!? _I take a deep breath. Jace Herondale has completely scrambled my brain. The old Clary would be completely horrified by this notion. She still is a little.

"Wait," he perks up suddenly, dropping my hand. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I mutter, simultaneously relieved and disappointed at the lack of contact.

"Listen…" He steps away from the bike, facing in the opposite direction of where the street lies. I try to concentrate on the sounds around me. "There it is again…"

Surely enough, I can hear a faint pounding. Almost like a drum beat. It's accompanied by a fuzzy sort of whining. A distorted guitar. Oh my god, we can hear Mallard Massacre. We can actually _hear _them. It's so distant that most people would probably just mistake it for animal noises, but if you know what you're dealing with, it wouldn't be too hard for someone to make sense of it. Meliorn probably didn't even have to ask where my house was –as in, the house with the donkey-sounding band- that time he came to take me out, he could hear it himself. We must be closer than I thought.

"They're playing without me!" Jace gasps, stalking back towards the bike. He kicks off the safety brake and places his foot on the left pedal. "Come on!"

"But we could just walk the-"

"On the bike, Midge!" He doesn't even look back at me. I sigh and climb back on to the bike, wrapping my arms around his waist again as he cycles off towards the source of the noise. It turns out we were on the right path after all, so all of this mess with Meliorn could have been completely avoided. We follow the path as it curves round through the trees, then emerge from the little patch of woodland a few minutes later into a part of the neighbourhood I definitely recognise. From there, it doesn't take long before we're pulling into the driveway, the band's music resonating louder than ever. It sounds a little off though somehow, a little weirder than normal.

I fumble with the house keys as Jace locks Sebastian's bike to the porch rails, and then we open the front door to be fully assaulted by the terrible wailing emanating from the practice room. Jace walks ahead of me, bursting through the door to reveal the band in full motion. Well, the band with one additional member – Magnus Bane.

He's playing one of Jonathan's spare guitars, taking on Jace's lead role – though with a completely different tone- as Alec plays the bass, blissfully jamming along with him. Jonathan drums away behind them, less animated than usual. As soon as Jonathan notices Jace, he stops playing at once. The look on his face is priceless. It's almost as if Jace had caught him cheating or something. Then again, to Jace it may well feel like that. The others die down soon after.

"What's going on here?" Jace says, as soon as the sound of Sebastian's last chord has completely faded away.

"You're back!" Jonathan stands up, slightly unsteady on his feet. "We were beginning to get worried."

"I can see that," Jace crosses his arms over his chest.

"It doesn't mean anything, Jace," Jon pleads. "We were just jamming. That's all."

"Yeah," Alec nods. "That's all we were doing."

"Just jamming," Jace laughs bitterly. "So what is it that we do, Jonathan? Don't we _just_ jam?"

"No!" Jonathan shakes his head. "We've never _just_ jammed. Not for a long time."

"Who wants some Ribena?" Jordan offers, edging his way towards the door. Clearly the tension in the room is becoming a little too much for him to bear. Now that he's mentioned it, I've developed a sudden craving for Ribena myself, though I should probably make sure things don't get much more heated before I go. Jace has definitely had his tempers high today.

"I do!" Sebastian says, sidling up to him. "Let's go and get Ribena together."

"That sounds like a great idea!" Alec says, about to join them.

"Not so fast, Lightwood!" Jace points at the blue-eyed boy. "I saw you with him. Don't pretend like you didn't enjoy it."

"So what if he did?" Magnus places his hands on his hips. "What if he liked playing with me more than he likes playing with you?"

"Magnus…" Alec begins to warn.

"No, Alec. It's time Jace knew. This isn't the first time we've jammed together."

Jace's jaw drops open.

"We've jammed a lot. We jam all the time. I have a guitar at my house and Alec always brings his bass so he can _jam_ with me. He's not _your_ bassist, Jace. He's his own bassist, and he can play to the melody of whichever guitar he likes."

"Jace," I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure they didn't mean to replace you."

"Oh no, absolutely not!" Magnus gasps. "Of course not! Is that what you were thinking, Herondale?" Jace's silence says everything. "The boys were just getting a little bored waiting around for you, that's all. I merely offered to liven things up a bit."

"Yes," Alec nods. "I'd never replace you. You're the only metal lead I'd ever want to play with. What Magnus and I have, that's completely different."

"God, yes!" Magnus agrees, glancing at Alec. "My style is very unique, I can't confine myself to any genre. But it doesn't mean we don't work well together. Your gentle, low undertones compliment my vibrant, edgy harmonies perfectly."

"Well," Alec shrugs, a blush spreading across his pale cheeks. "Something has to keep them grounded."

"I'm glad that something is you," Magnus grins at him. "I might just float off otherwise."

They gaze at each other, Alec's face bright pink and Magnus' conversely mischievous.

"Go get your Ribena," Jace coughs, interrupting their little moment.

"So we're good?" Alec diverts his attention from Magnus.

"Yeah, we're good." Jace pats him on the back as the two of them leave the room together.

"And us?" Jonathan asks, once it's just the three of us left.

"I guesssss," Jace drags out the word. "We're okay too."

"Good, because between you and me, and Clary – seriously what are you still doing here? – it definitely wasn't the same." I move slowly towards the door, letting them have their own moment. "Magnus is a good player, but he didn't get me, not like you do. I had to fit my drums around him. But with you, I don't even have to think about that. We just play."

"We do, don't we?" Jace smiles. The two of them glance down at the floor.

"You're the only lead guitarist for this band, Jace. You're the only lead guitarist for me."

"And I wouldn't want anyone else to keep my beat," Jace says.

"I'm glad to hear that."

I decide to take that as my cue to leave, only to then find Alec and Magnus making out in the hallway. There is so much cheese in this house it could give me nightmares for months. I open the kitchen door slowly, hoping it will offer me a better alternative. Luckily, Jordan and Sebastian are just standing by the fridge, gulping down their drinks.

"Ribena?" Jordan looks up as I walk in.

"Definitely."

* * *

**I am also now desperately craving Ribena. Though it's 3am so I'll probably end up waking the entire household in the process.**

**Ah stuff it, I'm getting my Ribena.**

**Anyway, thank you all so much for reading! Just wanted to say a particular thank you to the guest reviewer who just came back from Canada, because your reviews were so hilarious I laughed out loud. Yes, badgers are actually dangerous. And like I mentioned earlier, European badgers definitely are more distinctive. Just look at the Hufflepuff crest. They're black and white, dude. Black and white. Also to the German reviewers, you can just review in German if it's easier :P Ich verstehe Deutsch, Leute. **

**In other news, I just finished my contract at work (woop!) which means my update schedule will be back to normal. Wednesdays are officially back baby! **

**Till then...**

**smim xx**


	16. Chapter 16: Trying to escape Limbo

**Hellooo again :D Thank you to everyone who is still reading this, and hi to all my new readers. It honestly shocked me how many of you didn't know what Ribena is! I had no idea you poor things in the US don't get it! For those of you who I couldn't reply to, it's basically a blackcurrant squash drink that I know for a fact we have (a lot of) here in the UK. I'm not sure about the rest of Europe/the world. Feel free to enlighten me. It also shocked me to learn that blackcurrants are _banned _in some states in the US. Is that for real? I don't...I just. Wow. More for us, but wow.**

**Heads up about this chapter, it's definitely a lot deeper than some of the others. You'll see why though. Hope you enjoy it anyway, though!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI or its characters, and I lost my poetry anthology a long time ago. **

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**Chapter 16: Trying to escape Limbo**

_Limbo._

This is the name given to the theoretical state of presence that exists between Heaven and Hell. A void inhabited by those who haven't been condemned, but neither have been blessed. In Dante's Inferno, it is described as the first circle of Hell.

_Limbo._

A status assigned to those who have been held up. Those who are stuck in a certain situation, until a definite action allows them to be freed of it.

It also happens to be a popular dance contest that originated in Trinidad.

_Limbo._

It's exactly where I am right now. Not in the first circle of Hell – though it definitely feels like it sometimes – but I'm undeniably trapped. And it's incredibly apt that Limbo by Edward Kamau Braithwaite happens to be the very poem we are currently studying in English Literature, because I'm not there alone.

Jace is in Limbo too. We're limbo-ing it together, though not in the fun, beach-party way I'd prefer. It's not like I'm any good at that either, but it's better than our kind of Limbo.

We're stuck.

From an outsider's perspective, you wouldn't think things have changed at all between us. We're still fairly comfortable around each other, constantly bantering back and forth and generally doing our best to be as annoying as possible. I still make fun of Mallard Massacre; he still makes fun of my height. He's just as arrogant and self-righteous as ever, and I'm still there to keep his feet on the ground. We talk, we laugh, we piss each other off. It's been a month since the 'Ribena' incident, as I now refer to it in my head, and apart from the band practicing more intensely than ever – the first official round of the Battle of the Bands is in less than a week – the time we've spent together hasn't altered all that much either. All in all, the balance of the world has been maintained.

Therefore, externally, no one would think anything was different. There's a chance even Jace may not have noticed.

So what has changed? What is it that has had me feeling so entrapped within my own life?

You see, though on the outside it may appear that things between Jace and I are completely normal, my mind is telling a whole different story. Not much has changed in a month.

Except for the fact that I mightbefallinginlovewithhimohgodhelpme.

Didn't catch that? Don't worry about it. Okay, so perhaps it's not that extreme just yet. _Yet_ being the operative word, because with every day that passes I can feel myself getting deeper and deeper in.

I knew I was attracted to him before - that was something I'd admitted to myself a while back. On the night of my birthday, I'd realised it was something more than that. I liked him. Not just for his divine beauty and infectious charm, but because of who Jace Herondale is. He's the kind of man who wants to be perceived as indestructible. He wants people to believe that he's completely in control, that no one could truly have any power over him other than himself. But that week I saw another side to Jace. I saw that no matter how hard he tried to hide it from the world, he could be broken. A few irrational words from me, spoken completely without thought, were enough to make him retreat within himself. I'd had no idea I could hurt him so much until that night in the bathroom. Because despite everything, all he'd wanted was for me to understand him. He was still under the impression that I hated him, but he swallowed his pride anyway and actually _apologised_, something I'd never thought Jace was even capable of. And then after all that, he'd given me the One Ring. Apart from the fact that he has wonderful taste, it also went to prove that he cared. He'd cared enough to pay attention to me during the weeks beforehand, even when my own family had overlooked what I'd been subtly hinting about.

Okay, that's actually giving them too much credit. I think the words 'If I had a replica One Ring, I'd totally wear it all the time and then slip it on to get myself out of awkward situations' and 'Did you know Frodo actually kept the Ring for _17 years_ after the _birthday_ party before Gandalf came back with more information' are obvious enough. Seriously though, did you know that? It was 17 whole years after Bilbo's 111th birthday celebration – where Frodo simultaneously turned 33 - that Gandalf finally came back and told Frodo to take the Ring to Rivendell. However, I can understand why the films didn't stress that particular part of the book. An 18-year old Elijah Wood taking the ring to Mordor is much more aesthetically pleasing. No complaints from me, Sir. None at all.

But back to Jace. Where my family had quite clearly missed every single Lord of the Rings and birthday reference I'd made, Jace – who, might I add, doesn't spend the majority of the day with me unlike them – did notice, and he acted on it too. At the time I was too busy fangirling over the gift to really appreciate the extent of what he'd done for me, but I thought about it a lot afterwards. The truth is, I haven't taken it off since. Even now, the necklace is safely tucked inside my t-shirt. You know, in case I have any Dark Lord-related emergencies.

So that was the day I realised I _liked _Jace. I didn't want him to be in my life just because of Jonathan. I wanted him to be in my life because of _me._ So if one day, hopefully sometime soon, the band ever decided to call it quits in pursuit of a more realistic and less painful career path, I could still count on having him around.

But then things changed again the day of the 'Ribena' incident. Seeing the way Jace was with Meliorn, and then how he was with me straight after, I realised there was more to the way that I saw him. He wasn't just someone I wanted to keep as a friend, albeit an extremely attractive friend that I would stare at often. I would never truly be happy with him popping over at weekends to hang out with Jonathan, and then spending a few minutes with me in between. I didn't want our conversations to be limited to 'Oh, how is University going?' then, 'It's not too bad, thanks. Freshers' was insane,' and then, 'That's cool, did you meet anyone nice?' while silently praying he'd never meet anyone of the opposite sex ever again. Unless it's his professor and she happens to be at least sixty with a moustache, because I can just about live with that. _If_ she keeps her hands to herself.

Man, can you see how far in I am? I'm getting jealous already of potential elderly lecturers giving him a pat on the shoulder. Like, no. Stickers and 'excellent' elephant stamps only. No touchy. _No_ touchy.

So this is what happened. After that day, I came to a conclusion. I couldn't let things go on as they were; it wasn't enough for me to just have a crush on him. I _wanted_ him, but not just in the way I originally did. In those rare times when he was feeling down and vulnerable, I wanted to be the one he'd turn to. I wanted to be the one who'd stay up late with him watching Rom-coms, though we'd both undoubtedly spend the entire time making fun of them. I wanted to be the one he'd come running to when he received his first University offer, and then the one who'd help him make the final decisions. But I knew I'd need him just as much as I wanted him to need me. If I was having one of those nights where I was trying to draw but I wasn't getting anywhere, I'd know to phone him up and he'd be all the inspiration I'd need. When Jonathan and my parents were being a pain, he'd be there for me to offload to. Every time I had some exciting news, I'd want him to be the first person I told. Now that Simon and Isabelle had each other, I knew I'd need him even more. Someone who could be there for me. And I'd be there for him. Always.

Of course, I wanted all the good stuff too. But there's more to it than that.

And so I came to school a couple of days after – no English Lit on Tuesdays, remember? Unfortunately… - armed with all these new intentions. I was ready. Ready to begin my life with him. Ready to be his everything.

Except there was one small problem with that.

Jace.

I had absolutely no idea if he'd even ever looked at me that way, and I didn't have it in me to find out. While I'd spent the night planning what colour the walls of our future home would be painted – or wallpapered in the bedroom's case, I was undecided-, he'd probably just been sitting at home on his PlayStation, completely oblivious. So I said nothing. I just acted like I hadn't just had a massive life-changing epiphany and sat with him awkwardly as Mr Aldertree handed our stories back. We both got 'A's though. He was apparently very impressed with the imagery in Jace's chapter, and he was equally as appraising of the extended metaphors that I'd used throughout mine.

And so it continued.

Day after day, week after week, I had to keep pretending that nothing had changed. I had to pretend that I wasn't hanging onto every word that he said, that I wasn't analysing everything in my mind later on to see if I could decipher his feelings. I had to pretend every time he casually nudged my shoulder, or threw his arm over the back of my chair, or ruffled my hair that I wasn't flat-lining inside. And just like that, an entire month passed. An entire month of glancing at him longingly and wishing that he'd just tell me what he really wanted, because it hasn't been just a simple case of unrequited love on my part, oh no.

That's the most irritating thing.

If I knew he wasn't interested at all I'd probably be devastated, but at least I could move on. I'd accept that nothing was ever going to happen between us, and that would be that. I'd just join a convent or pour my feelings into my art and become well known as an eccentric painter who owns a record number of cats and paints with the tears of orphans.

But, annoying little bugger that he is, he hasn't made it very clear at all. Instead, he's had the nerve to do things like grab my hand in the middle of English Lit classes for no reason at all, and then just shrug when I've looked at him questioningly. He seems so nonchalant about it that you wouldn't think it was a big deal to him at all, whereas my internal organs have just been completely liquefied every time. That's not even the worst of it.

Last weekend at my house, I was just walking down the corridor minding my own business, when I heard some strange noises coming from Jonathan's room. It sounded like he was in a lot of pain so, being the concerned and caring sister that I am, I knocked a couple of times and then burst straight in when no one answered. What I found had me completely speechless. Jonathan was sitting by his computer, dressed a lot more 'emo' than usual, while Jace was standing on his bed with a frying pan, trying to lob Krave cereal into his mouth. It's safe to say that he missed, a lot.

I stayed silent, waiting for them to notice me. It was Jace who saw me first, his mouth falling open when he spotted me leaning against the doorframe.

"What did you stop for?" Jonathan looked up, shaking bit of the Krave out of his hair. "You need to put more force into it. It's not getting anywhere near my mouth!"

"It's a good thing I'm not listening to this out of context," I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest. Jonathan fell out of his swivel chair in surprise.

"Cla- Clary?" He stuttered, pulling himself back up. "What are you doing?"

"I think it's more important if you answer that question first."

"We were…well, we were…Jace, tell her what we were doing," he looked frantically at Jace. Jace hopped off the bed lithely.

"We were doing the Krave challenge for YouTube," he explained, holding the frying pan behind his back.

"Oh my god," Jonathan brought his hands to his face. "I didn't mean tell her the truth, you idiot."

"The Krave challenge?" I ignored my brother. "For YouTube? Since when have you two been on YouTube?"

"We're not," Jonathan lied.

"Not long," Jace shrugged. "We've been trying to make a name for ourselves to gain more publicity for the band. People are really digging the bromance pairings right now."

"JACE!" Jonathan's eyes widened. "Shut up!"

"What? She deserves to know. We'll be having tons of fangirls try to stalk you soon enough. As your sister, she needs to be prepared."

"I don't even…" I shook my head, completely baffled. They couldn't be that big because Maia was an avid YouTube user, and she was always on the ball with the latest big names. If my own brother was becoming successful, I'd have known about it by now. "What's your name?"

"Jonathan."

"Your YouTube name."

"Jonathan."

"Just Jonathan?" I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah, I believe that."

"Well I'm not going to tell you, am I?"

"And why not?" I placed my hands on my hips. "You know how much Dad hates the internet. I don't think he'd be all that happy to find out that you've been broadcasting within _his own home_…"

Jonathan just glared at me.

"Look," Jace said, trying to usher me out the door. "I'll clear it up."

"But…"

I let him guide me out of the room, then kept my eyes on him as he shut the bedroom door behind himself, leaving just the two of us alone out in the corridor.

"What's really going on?" I asked.

"I told you," Jace said. "It's for the band."

"I don't believe you…" I brushed him aside, reaching for the door handle.

"Wait!" He grabbed the handle, conveniently trapping my hand underneath it. Then he took a step towards me so that I was backed up against the door.

"Listen," he whispered, though I was having a pretty hard time concentrating on his words, given the circumstances. "I know this all seems a little extensive to you, but it means a lot to Jonathan. We're fully aware of what you make of Mallard Massacre…"

"But…" I was about to say something, but I couldn't remember my point because the moment I started to speak, he placed his finger on my lips. What I do remember, is that it suddenly became a little difficult to breathe.

"I know," he spoke again, his voice so hushed I wouldn't have been able to catch it if he weren't so close. "You don't have to say anything. Just, let him do his own thing this once. Please?"

He could have asked me to set my Fresh Prince of Bel Air box sets on fire and, in that one moment, there's a good chance I may have said yes.

"He's being so secretive because he's unsure of himself. He doesn't know how well this is going to do, and he doesn't know how the Battle of the Bands contest is going to go this weekend. He's nervous. You've known Jonathan longer than I have. How often is he nervous?"

I just shook my head in response. How often is he nervous? What colour are your socks? I didn't know the answer to anything.

"So do you reckon, for him, you might be able to let it go this time? Don't ask questions. Don't make fun of him. Just let it go, for him. For me. Please?"

I nodded slowly, relieved when he finally released me.

"Thank you," he mouthed, letting me move away from the door. I stumbled a bit as I regained my footing. "Oh and since you're going, do you mind taking this back to the kitchen?"

He held the frying pan out to me. I took it from him, nodding again because there was nothing else I was capable of doing. Then he closed the door on me and just before his face disappeared, I could swear he winked at me. But then again, it was so quick I could just as easily have imagined it.

So you see my dilemma?

One second he's all calm and collected, thinking nothing of holding my hand, and then the next he's Mr. Life-Ruiner. This is why I'm not in Limbo alone, because I literally have no idea where he stands in all of this. Am I just someone else to flirt and waste time with? Or perhaps, is there a chance that he might be just as crazy about me as I am about him? I wish I had the guts to ask him.

"Earth to Midge!" I blink as someone waves their hand in front of my face. Jace is standing up by his chair, putting all his books away.

"What's wrong?" I mumble, trying to gather my thoughts. Why is the class almost empty?

"Wow, were you really that engrossed with the poem?" He laughs, handing me my backpack. "The bell just rang. Class is over!"

"It is?" I get up unsteadily.

"Yeah," he drawls, smirking at me. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine, fine!" I start throwing my books into my bag haphazardly. "You were right. I was just thinking about the poem."

"Oh," he looks taken aback by this. "Really? I was just joking about that."

"It's a good poem," I shrug. "You know, it's pretty deep."

"Limbo, Limbo like me?"

"Yeah," I shake my head, smiling. "That's really deep."

"If you say so, Midge." He chuckles. "If you say so. Though it's definitely going to be stuck in my head all day now."

"Mine too," I say, slinging the backpack over my shoulder as we leave the room.

Mine too.

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**It's also now stuck in mine :P Do any of you lot still have to study Limbo for English? I remember it well from my good old GCSE days, it was the only poem in the entire anthology that I actually liked. Oh, apart from the other one with the crazy murderous wife. That was cool.**

**I know this may have felt like a bit of a filler chapter for some of you because it lacked the usual humour and antics, but I hope you got something out of it anyway. I think it was important for you all to understand exactly how Clary feels (minus the hormones) so that you can see why things have gone as slowly as they have, but also why certain_ things _are about to happen in the next chapter.**

**Regardless of what's about to happen, since humour is usually my default, feedback on this chapter would be useful. I just want to make sure I'm getting the romance in enough, because it's going to become a pretty big part of the story from now on. There'll still be humour _obviously_, but this fic is definitely going to become less crack overall. Basically everything's just going to get ramped up a notch. I'm pretty excited about it! Thanks for reading guys :D**

**Till Sunday...**

**smim xx**


	17. Chapter 17: Trying to stay calm

**Longest chapter yet. By far.**

**I'm just going to let you read.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters. I just wind them up.**

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**Chapter 17: Trying to stay calm**

It's the day before the first round of the Battle of the Bands and the boys' nerves are like live wires. Even now as I'm lying in bed, I can still hear them playing acoustic downstairs. You'd think that, instead of rehearsing for some amateur music contest, they're actually all about to be shipped off to the front line of a war-torn third world country tomorrow.

Take this morning, for example. I was sitting at the breakfast table, happily munching away at my Krave – Jonathan bought so much for the challenge that our parents have insisted we're to finish every box before they buy any more cereal – when my brother burst into the kitchen, eyes bloodshot.

"Morning!" I said, nodding at him. He glanced my way for one frantic second, his hair protruding in all directions, before heading straight to the fridge without a word. I then watched open-mouthed as he grabbed a bottle of milk and downed the entire thing in one go. It was all very messy. His t-shirt probably soaked up more than he did. Then he just stared at me for a while and walked back out again, as if he hadn't just behaved like a caveman who'd been magically transported to the 21st century. I wouldn't be surprised - the sounds he was making were definitely quite primitive.

As the day has progressed, hardly any of the band members have dared to venture outside of the practice room, and on the rare occasions when they do emerge, their behaviour has become increasingly peculiar. When I was walking past earlier – there had been a temporary lull in the music so I'd decided it was safe to come downstairs – I happened to run into a seemingly shell-shocked Alec.

"Clary!" He gasped, reaching desperately in front of him.

"Down here, Alec," I said, since his hands were just flailing about uselessly over my head.

"Clary!?" His eyes stayed fixed directly ahead of him. "Clary?"

"Alec?"

"Clary?"

"That's enough time," Jace suddenly poked his head around the door. He grabbed hold of the back of Alec's shirt, guiding him back into the practice room.

"Jace…" I muttered, keeping my eyes on Alec. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing!" Jace grinned momentarily. "Nothing at all. Come on now, Alec. In we go."

"Clary?" Alec whispered one more time before Jace pulled him all the way in, shutting the door behind them both. I stood by the door for a few more seconds, completely baffled by what I'd just seen, but then I just shrugged it off and decided I'd head over to Eric's instead where The Banister Complex would be practicing. I was sure things would be a lot more sane at his place.

Eric's garage turned out to be a lot more peaceful than the Morgenstern household, but the boys weren't doing much better. The pressure was finally getting to Simon too.

"I hate you," he said to me, as I pulled up the garage door.

"It's great to see you too, Simon."

"I hate you."

"I heard you the first time, friend. And what exactly have I done to call for such malice?"

"He's freaking out," Isabelle explained, gesturing for me to sit with her. She was sat on a plastic garden chair, as far away from the band as space would allow. "He's messed up on the same song three times in a row."

"I did _not_ mess up," Simon threw his arms in the air. "If you'd all actually listen to me, you'd realise Eric's the one who is throwing us off. He's always coming in a beat too late, so even though I'm actually playing at the right time, it doesn't fit the song."

"Err, so why don't you just do what Kirk and Matt are doing? Wait for me to come in and then play," Eric twirled his drumsticks, leaning back.

"It doesn't work like that, Eric!"

"Sure it does. I mean, you can't expect me to just play a beat early."

"I can if _that is how the song is meant to go_!"

"Okay, dear." Isabelle rose up out of her chair and walked over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Deep breaths."

"But…"

"Deep breaths," she inhaled exaggeratedly and then exhaled, encouraging him to join her. "That's it. Everything's going to be fine, just keep breathing. Things will work out."

"Sorry," Simon eventually mumbled, his face beginning to return to its normal shade. "I just…I don't think we're ready for this. We were never ready." Then he turned to look at me, eyes narrowed.

"Don't be ridiculous," I laughed awkwardly. Okay, so it was completely my fault. I was so determined for Mallard Massacre not to make it through, that I pushed Simon into the contest. Though I still believed that this was good for him. He needed to come out of his shell a little, especially since he was trying to impress Isabelle at the time. Just because he was now with her, it didn't mean he could suddenly let go and become a complete slob. "You guys are great. The crowd at Luke's bookstore absolutely adored you."

"What crowd?" Simon deadpanned. "Maureen?"

"Hey, my cousin was there too!" Eric interjected.

"As were Isabelle and I," I said. "Matt and Kirk's girlfriends. Luke, too. That's seven already."

"See!" Isabelle wrapped her arms around Simon's waist. I had to admit, I was still only just getting used to this physical contact between them. A month of going out wasn't going to completely erase several years of a platonic friendship. Not in my mind, at least. They didn't seem to be having any problems with taking it to the next level at all. "You're going to be awesome up there."

"Fine," Simon finally said. "We'll try again. But if we crash and burn then it's all on you, Morgenstern. It's all on you."

I check my alarm clock. It's almost midnight and they've finally packed it in for the day. They're all sleeping over downstairs again so they can make it up to the venue together. I bury my head in my pillow, trying to clear my mind. Part of that includes trying not to dwell on the fact that Jace is sleeping in the same house as me. Of course, it's happened many times before, but obviously I'm much more aware of it these days. Unfortunately, since the boys tend to go to sleep really late and wake up so early for practice, we haven't had any more accidental run-ins upstairs, but a girl can dream. And that's exactly what I do.

The next twenty or so hours blur past and before I know it, I'm standing backstage with Simon. I remember little of the morning, since the majority of it was spent running around the house, collecting various items for the boys. Since it's their 'big day' my mother was very adamant that I should do whatever I possibly could to ease their burden. Pah. If Dad hadn't gone to visit his friend Michael, I'm sure he wouldn't have stood for this. I don't usually brag about being his favourite child, but it definitely comes in handy from time to time.

My mother woke me up at six in the morning, interrupting the lovely dream I'd just been having. Jace and I were whisked away by the Doctor in his TARDIS and he took us to 19th Century London, where Jace encouraged these two Victorian boys to breed a cannibalistic race of ducks. It was all very amusing.

"Clarissa Adele Morgenstern!" She said, dragging the curtains aside and blinding me in the process.

"Bloodthirsty little beasts…" I groaned, still partially stuck in my dream world.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, YOUNG LADY!?" Jocelyn shrieked, chasing away any notion that I was still in an alternate reality. I bolted upright, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"I said…err…yes of course, Mummy?"

She raised an eyebrow at me.

"You haven't called me Mummy since you were five."

"I was five in my dream," I said, smiling angelically at her.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Clarissa." She rolled her eyes and dropped a pile of clothes on my bed. "These all need to be washed and ironed, ready for the boys to wear tonight."

"But…"

"It's Jonathan's day, Clary. The day your art is put on display at an exhibition, I will have Jonathan wash and press all of your clothes. But today, I need you to do this for him. The poor boy will be practicing all day."

"But I'm so tired…" I pouted, though she wasn't having any of it.

"I'll get you that new set of pencils you wanted."

I jumped out of bed immediately.

"Deal."

And so the rest of the day was spent fussing over the boys at my mother's behest, making sure everything was perfect for the evening. Luckily, they all left a couple of hours early for the sound check so I had some time to myself before Magnus came to pick me up. Isabelle was already in the car with him wearing a Star Wars t-shirt, no doubt in support of Simon. He insisted that their band was above having special colours, and that instead their fans should be free to wear whatever they liked. It went without saying though that this should be some sort of fandom-related merchandise. Since Luke already knew I was his sister, Jonathan agreed that I didn't have to wear the Mallard Massacre outfit that was thrust upon me at the last gig, but Magnus did strongly _suggest_ that if I wasn't wearing at least one item of yellow clothing, he might accidentally drive straight past my house and forget to take me. It's not like that would've been the worst thing ever, but since I got The Banister Complex into this, I decided I at least owed it to Simon to be there. Also, despite the fact that it happened to be Halloween, we weren't allowed to wear costumes either.

So in the end, in the nature of equality, I left my house wearing bright yellow Vans and a 'Save the Cheerleader, Save the World' T-shirt. Simon and I were quite the Heroes fans back in the day. Of course, I also had my handy One Ring safely tucked inside my shirt.

"Clary, I can't do this." Simon sticks his head through the backstage door, listening to the crowd getting riled up by Luke. We're still at the Devil's Tavern, though it's been decked out with various Halloween decorations.

"It's going to be alright," I reassure him, pushing some fake spider webs out of my face. "Just watch me and Isabelle and pretend you're only playing for us. Ignore everyone else. I mean, some of them are dressed so ridiculously anyway, it's pretty easy to forget they're actually people."

"I'll agree with that. Did you see that girl in the Venus Fly Trap costume?"

"I think that was Maureen, Simon."

"Oh my goodness…" He faces away from the door.

"Look, you've already done this once. There's more people this time, yes, but you'll forget about that as soon as you're up there. Everyone will love The Banister Complex."

"Who?" He squints at me.

"Your band, Simon. Your band."

"Oh! Yeah, that's not our name anymore."

"When did you change it?"

"The day after the first gig," he shrugs. "And then we changed it again last week. We're now Hammer To The Tool Shed."

"You're what now?"

"Hammer To The Tool Shed. It's meaningful."

"I'm not even going to ask…" Honestly, that boy worries me sometimes.

"HAMMER TO THE TOOL SHED!" Luke suddenly yells from the stage. Was I literally the only person who didn't know about this name change?

"Oh wait, that's my cue!" Simon clutches his Bass closer.

"Simon!" Isabelle bursts through the door, slightly out of breath. "Sorry, the line for the washroom was so long. Good luck, darling!" She reaches over and plants a big sloppy kiss right on his lips, before pushing him towards the steps.

"Yeah," I wink at him. "Good luck, darling."

"Thanks," Simon smirks, his cheeks bright pink.

Isabelle and I rush to the other side of the stage and sneak our way to the front of the audience, ninja-style. I look behind me to see if anyone else, apart from Maureen, has come to support them. Maia pushes her way through the crowd when she spots us, dragging Jordan along by the hand. The rest of the guys are sitting in their usual booth at the back, clearly too cool to come and stand with us peasants. Since Mallard Massacre are on last, the boys don't have to go backstage until Queen and Her Court have started playing. The Bani- or Hammer To The Tool Shed rather, are on first since they were the late entries.

"What are our chances?" Maia whispers to me, as Simon's band start to set up their instruments.

"Practice yesterday went pretty well," I whisper back, careful not to let Jordan hear. "Eric was a little sloppy at times, but after a couple of hours of solid playing, they sounded decent. Better than our lot, anyway."

"So we've got a chance," Maia nods.

I ignore how much I just loved saying 'our.' Of course, since my brother is in the band, he could count as my _lot_, but I know I was definitely including Jace in that. I look back at the booth but he's facing the other way, deep in conversation with Jonathan. He's been so preoccupied with this night lately that I haven't really had a chance to talk to him, but I'm hoping things will change once this contest is over and done with.

"There's just one problem with that," Isabelle says, gesturing towards a group of girls who have just walked in. They're clad in yellow and black, intersecting 'M's badly stitched onto their shirts. Mallard Massacre fangirls. God help us.

"Simon won't get enough votes," I moan, the despair settling in. Unless Meliorn's band manage to pull out something big, this isn't looking good for me.

"We don't know that!" Maia says, directing her glare at the girls. "They might blow everyone away. We have no idea who is hidden behind half of these crazy masks. They could all be massive HTTTS supporters."

"I guess we'll find out," I say, as Matt steps up to the mike.

"Hey there! We're Hammer To The Tool Shed, formerly known as The Banister Complex!" He waves at the crowd. Everyone cheers as per usual, though mine and Isabelle's screams greatly overshadow the rest. Maia has to keep her enthusiasm at bay because of Jordan, so the only person who can compete with us is Maureen with her high-pitched squealing. Isabelle turns to shoot her a dark look, before we return our focus to the stage. "And for our first song, we're going to play 'Ode to the potential of a Leaf!'"

This is the song Eric kept messing up on at practice, but they manage to plough through it without too many hiccups. The audience seem to be enjoying it, bobbing up and down with the beat. Of course, we can't tell exactly how much they're liking it because of the costumes, but it's looking good so far. Simon really gets into his groove by the time they get onto their second song, 'Chu-baking the bread.'

Half way through, Maureen rips off one of her petals and throws it onstage towards Simon. In retaliation, to my absolute horror, Isabelle unleashes a battle cry and throws her bra at him. She assures me afterwards that it's a spare she kept in her pocket precisely for that purpose, though I'm not convinced. Possessive is an understatement when referring to Isabelle Lightwood. Simon seems petrified either way, so he ends up backing away until he's almost completely hidden by Kirk. Their final song, 'Of Clotpoles and Dollopheads' has the majority of the crowd jumping up and down, to the extent that the band finally leave the stage with a roar of applause and cheers. Isabelle and I look around, trying to gauge the reactions of the other kids.

"I'm so proud of my baby," she gushes, wiping a tear from her eye. "I think they might have actually done it!"

"Oh, I hope so!" Maia grins, as soon as Jordan is out of earshot. "They actually weren't that bad."

"Then again, the way we define bad has changed quite a bit since we've heard the worst," I say, noticing Mallard Massacre getting up from their booth. "If decent bands were actually playing, I don't know if any of these guys would stand a chance."

"Well, I'm going to go and see if I can convince some people," Maia decides, moving away from us. "Tell Simon I will buy him any video game of his choice if they win this."

"Will do!" I yell over my shoulder, as Isabelle and I make our way back to where the band would be. Simon's leaning against the wall, drenched in sweat.

"Simon!" Isabelle runs towards him, then thinks better of an embrace when she notices his extensive perspiration.

"It's the fluorescents," he shrugs. "It's so hot up there."

"Yes," Isabelle pats him on the shoulder, then smiles seductively at him. "It really was _hot_ up there."

"And that's my own cue to leave," I back away from them. "You smashed it though, Simon. I'm proud."

"Thanks, Clary," he says, though he doesn't take his eyes off of Isabelle. I leave the two lovebirds to gaze at each other as I walk away from the stage, heading further into the building. I pass the other band members on the way as they carry their instruments back to the storage room.

"Hey, Clary?" Eric stops when he notices me. "Do you mind just taking this hi-hat back to storage for me? Ariel's getting pretty impatient out there."

"Ariel?" I raise my eyebrows. "You've had the same girlfriend since the last gig?"

"Yeah, well…" Eric scratches his neck. "I really think she's the one. Like, for real this time. You feel me?"

"Okay, Eric," I shake my head. "Since I'm in shock that you've managed to sustain a decent relationship, I shall help you this once."

"Cheers, Clary." He hands me the hi-hat. "You're the best. Well, okay, not the best best because Ariel's the best. But you're damn fine."

"If you say so, Eric." He walks in the opposite direction as I carry on making my way down the corridor, heading towards the storage room. It's eerily quiet this far backstage, and today's date isn't doing much to calm my nerves as I realise I'm pretty much alone. Eric's drum kit took the longest to dismantle and carry, so the rest of the band has already packed up. I breathe a sigh of relief when I finally see the sign for the storage up ahead. Not much further and then I can just go straight back, though I'd probably be sprinting at this rate.

I nudge the door open and then try to place the hi-hat as close as I can to the rest of the kit, without actually taking my foot off the door. For some reason, I just really don't like the idea of the door shutting on me while I'm in here. This room is probably used for stock for the bar normally, so the bare stone walls don't do much to keep the draughts out.

I decide I've pushed the hi-hat far enough when I suddenly hear voices coming down the corridor. I dart out of the room as fast I can, then duck behind a crate in the hallway as the voices come closer.

"One job, Meliorn," a woman says. "You had one job, and you couldn't even do that properly."

"I tried, Seelie!" Meliorn replies. They both conveniently stop on the other side of the crate, so I manage to peer through the holes to see them. Both are dressed just as ethereally as they were for the last gig, though their facial expressions are anything but peaceful. "Honestly, I tried. It was just that stupid Blonde fool-of-a-guitarist that kept getting in my way."

"Not the first time, he didn't!" Seelie pokes Meliorn in the chest. "She chose you, didn't she? You took her out for_ coffee_, and yet you still couldn't get anything out of her!"

I cover my mouth to hide my gasp. They're talking about me. They must be.

"I couldn't just come out with it, could I?" Meliorn flips his hair back. "I had to gain her trust first. She wasn't just going to come out and tell me what Mallard Massacre were planning."

I place my other hand on the crate, gripping the plastic to keep me calm. He was using me. He was using me all along and, idiot that I am, I even risked upsetting Jace over him that night on the porch.

"You didn't have to find out everything!" Seelie turns away from him. "Any information would have done. Who made up their fan base, what set list they were going to stick to, anything that could possibly have taken one of the members out of it completely. And what do you come back to tell me? Oh, 'the guitarist doesn't have a very good sense of direction' or 'he thinks he's better than me because he can do his fancy sweeping tricks.' All I've heard you talk about is Jace and how much you hate him. How is that meant to help me, Meliorn? How is that going to bring them down? You can deal with your little fascination with Herondale in your own time, when they're busy recording their album and you're stuck in Penhallow's office for the rest of eternity. Because right now, they're lounging around in their little booth, surrounded by all their fangirls, just waiting to take this from us."

"Seelie…"

"Enough, Meliorn. We don't have time. We're meant to be onstage in five minutes, Kaelie's nowhere to be found, and only half of our supporters have turned up. You better pray for a miracle tonight, or it'll be your neck on the line." Then she stalks away from him, leaving Meliorn chasing behind her. "Oh, and you need to work on your tapping technique."

Once Meliorn's cries of indignation have finally died down, I risk lifting myself up off the floor. I can't say I'm devastated, exactly. It's not like I really liked Meliorn anyway, but it's definitely brought my mood down a few notches. No matter what happens tonight, as long as Queen and Her Court don't win, I'll be satisfied. One thing that does bug me, is that Jace was right. I hate to admit it, but he was right about Meliorn from the beginning. He said he didn't trust him, and I should have listened. But no, I had to be taken in by that silvery-blonde hair and elven figure. I almost destroyed whatever relationship I had with Jace because of him. Okay, so I'm not upset, but I'm definitely pissed off beyond belief.

I head back down the corridor, hoping that the boys will be there by now. I don't know exactly who it is I want to see, but I can't be alone anymore. If Jace is the first person I see, so be it. He can boast about it all he likes. I'm the naïve one, I deserve it. But really, what was Seelie hoping for? It's not like I know much about the inner workings of the band anyway, but there's definitely no single way to bring them down. If there were, I would have thought of it a long time ago.

It turns out that Jace isn't the first person I see as I get back to the main backstage area. It's Jonathan. He's leaning against the wall, watching Meliorn and Seelie take their instruments up on stage. Neither of them pay any attention to me. I guess since I'm no longer useful, Meliorn has no need of my existence.

Jon looks up as I approach him.

"Clary?" He stands upright, pushing himself off the wall. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" I try to put on as cheerful an expression as I can manage. "Why would you think something's wrong?"

"Clarissa, who do you think you're talking to?" He crosses his arms over his chest. "Now tell me what happened."

"Nothing," I insist, though I can't maintain the grin for much longer. "I guess I just…it's nothing. I was just stupid, that's all."

He raises an eyebrow at me.

"That's not like you," he smirks at me. "You'd never admit to being stupid, despite how much I try to tell you the truth."

I can't help it. I crack a smile.

"Seriously though," he says, all traces of amusement gone. "If someone's said something to you…"

"No one's said anything," I interrupt.

"But if they did, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," I say. "I would."

It's weird to have Jonathan act this way towards me, but I guess when it counts, he really would take care of me. He's fine with teasing me all the time, that's something we both do. But clearly he's not fine with someone else stepping in to do it for him.

"Good." He ruffles my hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I nod. And I am. Weirdly enough, he's made me feel a lot better.

"Cool, could you do me a favour then?"

"Sure."

"Could you find Jace for me? The guys have already carried most of the stuff over, but they can't find his guitar."

Finding Jace. Yep, that's a favour I'm pretty sure I can stretch myself to.

"Where did you see him last?"

"I think Sebastian said he headed over there," Jonathan gestures towards a room on the right side of the corridor. "It's the other storage room, so he might have left his stuff in there."

"I'm on it!" I mock salute at my brother, then make my way to the much closer storage room on the other side. "Jace?" I call, looking around myself in case he'd already left. If Sebastian saw him here a while back, I can't think of a reason why he'd still be there. Perhaps he's just warming up.

"Jace?" I grab the door handle, pushing it open. "Ja-"

I stop myself, realising he's not alone. Jace and Kaelie look up at me in surprise as I stand awkwardly in the doorway.

My thoughts go wild.

Jace is sitting on a table against the far wall, while Kaelie is leaning against it, her hand dangerously close to his leg. Kaelie jumps back from him, almost as if she wants me to think there was something going on. I try not to think at all as I force my gaze back to Jace.

He stares at me open-mouthed.

"Jonathan's looking for you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "He said…your guitar…"

"Oh," Jace coughs. "Yeah, it's just over there."

Surely enough his guitar is next to the doorframe, still in its case.

"Oh my god!" Kaelie gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "What time is it?"

"Just gone nine," I say, glancing briefly at my watch.

"I'm late!" She grabs her purse from the table, then gives Jace a quick apologetic look before darting out of the door. I move aside so I'm as far from her as possible.

"Crap," Jace curses. "You have great timing, Midge. Really great timing."

My heart sinks.

"I'm sorry," I snap. I try not to show him how much his words are hurting me. "I didn't realise you were otherwise…occupied."

"Occupied?" He looks up, his expression slightly confused.

"It may not matter to you, but Jonathan's been doing his best to get everything organised for your set!" I can either let myself crumble, or I can explode. I choose the anger. "So maybe next time you can arrange a better time to get together with Kaelie…"

"Wait!" Jace stops me, an incredulous look on his face. "Is that what you thought?"

"What does it matter what I think? Since when have you ever cared what I think?"

If he did, he wouldn't treat me like this. He wouldn't make me think that I was worth something to him one day, and then just pretend like I didn't even exist the next. Is he really so oblivious? Can he not see how crazy I am about him? Or if he does, it clearly doesn't make a difference to him.

"I don't understand." He gets up slowly.

"Well, you wouldn't, would you? You've never taken more than a second to think about anyone other than yourself. Even on a night as important as this, all you can think about is your own _needs_."

"My needs?" He says. "I was doing this for the band."

"How does being with Kaelie help the band?" I laugh once, past hiding how bitter I am.

"Because the longer I could distract her, the less time she'd be with her band!" He raises his voice, heading towards me. "I was keeping her talking so that she'd forget she was meant to be on stage! They have strict rules with this place, so instead of overrunning, Luke would have to cut their set short!"

"Oh." My mouth drops open. _Shit. _"I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't, did you?" Now he's angry. Fantastic. "Because you always think the worst of me."

"I don't…"

"You always automatically assume that I'm in it for myself, that I couldn't possibly give a crap about someone else. You'd never once just trust me on something." He takes a step closer to me so that I'm backed up against the door, his eyes unusually dark. His jaw is clenched, the muscles in his neck taut.

"Jace, I…"

"What, Clary?" He shouts. "I don't even know what to say anymore to you. I've tried over and over to somehow get you to understand me, but it's just not working is it? I thought we could actually be friends, that we could actually get along. But no, you have to go and throw it all in my face." He slams his hand into the door to the side of me.

I don't even flinch.

I tried to apologise. I guess that isn't going to work anymore.

"ME?" I gasp. "Throw it in _your_ face! Do you have any idea how frustrating you can be? I have no idea where I stand with you sometimes. One second you can be pleasant and understanding, and the next it's like nothing can ever affect you."

"That's what you think!"

"Well, you haven't exactly given me much reason to think otherwise, have you? You play your little mind games and you mess with people, but you don't ever think about the impact you're having."

"You're one to talk!" He scoffs in disbelief, his face so close to mine I can see dark brown flecks in his golden eyes. "You're the one who brushes everything off! You just go along in your own little world, expecting everyone else to make sense of it for you. But then if it doesn't go the way you want it to, you go crazy! I don't even know how to deal with it anymore. I don't even know if I want to! What _the hell_ is your problem?!"

I can't tell you what happens next, because I don't quite understand it myself. All I know is that one second we're glaring at each, both struggling to get our tempers under control.

And the next second, I've grabbed hold of the collar of his shirt and I've pulled his face down to mine.

My lips clash angrily with his, my other hand reaching up to fist in his hair. I can't think. I can't even breathe. I don't think I could have stopped myself even if I wanted to.I just let all my annoyance and frustration, _so much frustration_, pour out of me as I move my lips against his. I can barely register what's happening. I haven't even kissed anyone before and yet with Jace it's purely instinctive. I vaguely register his hand at my side, still pressed flat on the door and I can feel his arm snaking across my waist.

And then I push him away from me, hard.

He gapes at me wide-eyed as we both breathe heavily and for the first time, Jace Herondale is speechless.

"That," I whisper. "That _the hell_ is my problem."

Then before he has a chance to say anything, I wrench the door open and walk away, slamming it shut in his face.

* * *

**...**

**It happened.**

**Thank you for reading.**

**You have no idea how nervous I was about this chapter. I've been delaying it for as long as possible. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**You'll find out what happens next on Wednesday...**

**smim xx**


	18. Chapter 18: Trying to be invisible

**Bloody hell you lot, 92 reviews in the last three days!? And I finally got a hit from Switzerland yesssss! Hello friend!**

**But yes, thanks to every single one of you for reviewing/favouriting/following/even just reading this fic. It honestly means the world to me, and I'd never in a million years even _dreamed_ it would do this well. Thank you.**

**Sorry this took a while, I know a lot of you have been waiting for many hours for this update. The truth is, I just couldn't stop writing once I'd started, so in return, I give you another extra long chapter. Hope you all like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters, and I lost my spikey belt gah**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Trying to be invisible**

"Clary?"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Clary?"

I cover my face, retreating deeper into my feathery refuge. Jonathan's voice continues to sound through the door as I struggle to make sense of my surroundings. I feel incredibly stiff and there's something uncomfortable prodding into my hip. I yawn and stretch my arms out, then recoil as they smack something hard.

"Ouch!" I mumble, pulling the duvet tighter around me. _Duvet._

"Clary? I swear if you don't answer me in five seconds I will rip off this Merlin poster…"

"I'm awake!" I gasp, bolting upright. Why is it always the Merlin poster they threaten? What did it ever do to them? "I'm awake?" I say again, my eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. I'm sat in my bed, my tangled red hair drooping in front of my face. But that's not what bothers me. I'm still wearing the clothes I picked out for the gig – my spiked belt is the source of my hip-related discomfort – and the sun is streaming in through the gap in my curtains.

I rack my sleep-fogged brain, trying to remember what happened last night. I vaguely recall the scent of sardines, something I usually associate with…what, exactly? Sardines. _Sardines._ Eric's van! So, if I was with Eric, that means he must have dropped me off at home yesterday.

_Why didn't Magnus drop me off?_

I search my brain again, another yawn escaping my mouth. I really am not a morning person at all. If you talk to me at midnight, I'm as sharp as anything, but this early I'm nothing but a glorified zombie. Without the glory. Wait…

_Because I left early._

I remember running through the crowd, it was all very hectic. No one else seemed like they were in any hurry to leave. They were all standing around facing the stage, watching some tall robed people finish their set. Robed people.

Queen And Her Court.

Queen And Her Court were still playing.

_So why did I leave?_

I push the hair out of my eyes, squinting at the rest of my bedroom.

Then my hands fly to my lips.

No_._

_No._

_Oh my god, please no. _

"Clary? I don't hear you moving around in there!" Jonathan yells again, but I'm past paying attention to anything going on outside of my own head.

I kissed Jace.

I _kissed_ Jace.

It wasn't even quick and chaste. I curl my knees up to my chest, rocking back and forth in my horror.

I literally grabbed him and kissed his face off. And then what did I do? I just _left._

It's all so painfully clear now. I stormed out of the room, leaving Jace in shock – poor guy, I don't even blame him – and then I ran. I pushed past all of the people in the crowd, heading out of the Devil's Tavern, and I probably would have walked straight back to my house if Eric hadn't seen me.

I told him I had a splitting headache, so I couldn't bear to be around all the loud music any longer. Then, he told me Ariel wasn't feeling too well, so he was going to take her home and offered to drop me off on the way. And that was that. I sat in the front, wedged between Ariel and the passenger door, gazing blankly out of the window the whole way.

When I got home, I pushed past my mother using the headache excuse once again, and threw myself onto my bed. I can't remember how many hours I just laid there, wide awake, staring up at my ceiling. Lost in my thoughts. All I know is that eventually, the drama and exhaustion must have gotten to me, so I slipped into blissfully oblivious sleep. Then Jonathan started banging on my bedroom door like a madman, of course.

This is where you came in.

"Idiot," I moan, burying my face in the duvet. "Stupid stupid stupid."

"That's it!" Jonathan throws my door open and barges into the room. He stops as he notices me, balled up under the sheets. "You're not out of bed yet!?"

"Err…" I start to cough. "I'm ill. Really ill."

"Yeah, and I'm Britney Spears. Get up. Now."

"I'm not joking," I say, clutching the duvet tighter. "I'm actually ill."

"Really? What have you got then?" He crosses his arms, standing above me.

"A virus?"

"What type of virus?" He shifts back slightly, his eyes narrowing at me.

"A really contagious one." I cough again. "Stay back, I don't want to burden you with this too."

"What type of virus?" Jonathan repeats, standing his ground this time.

"The Ebola one?" _Great, Clary. That's just fantastic. You could have picked something common, but no, you had to go for that one. _Granted, it is arguably the most horrible virus anyone could contract, but it's equally as rare.

"You have the Ebola virus?" Jonathan rolls his eyes.

"That's the one," I say. _Might as well run with it. _There's a chance Jonathan may not know too much about it. "Now please, I must face this alone." I shoo him away dramatically. "Leave me."

"Listen here," Jonathan takes a step closer instead. "Mum and Dad have already left for work, and they made me promise I'd make sure you got to registration on time. I wouldn't care if you had that thing from Alien inside you. I'm taking you to school, even if I have to drag you all the way there."

"You really wouldn't want to touch someone with the Ebola virus."

"Clarissa…"

"Alright, what did they threaten?"

"My new cymbals," he hisses. "So how are we going to do this, Sis? Are you going to grow up and get ready, or will I have to carry you to the car and then drop you outside your form room, exactly as you are?"

I glare at my brother, gauging his mood. If they threatened his cymbals, there's a pretty good chance he may actually go through with this. He's more than capable of carrying me. Damn Swiss genes.

"Fine," I groan, sitting up. "Go away. I'll be down in twenty minutes."

"You have ten," he says, and then he walks out and shuts the door behind him.

After the world's quickest shower ever, I make it downstairs in twelve minutes exactly. The extra time came from my indecision when picking something to wear. I'm normally not fussed about what I turn up in at school, clothes are clothes after all, but I'm feeling particularly self-conscious today. I try not to think too much about, well, anything at all, as I scarf down my cereal and run to the car while Jonathan sits there revving away at the engine.

Again, I try to clear my mind during the ride to school.

I concentrate on the trees that we pass, their browning leaves curled up at the trunks.

Two nursery kids chase a pigeon down the road, giggling as their mother looks on disapprovingly.

Outside the school gates, groups of pre-pubescent girls and boys stand, chatting to each other before the bell rings.

I even briefly spot Camille's gang heading into the building while Jonathan parks his car.

It's only when we finally come to a standstill, that the enormity of what I'm about to face hits me. My hand freezes on the door handle. _I can't do this._ I can't face him, not so soon after what happened. I've barely had time to think it through myself, so how am I meant to give him an explanation? I mean, how can you even explain something like that? If I wasn't thinking clearly at the time, I can't even begin to tell him what was going through my head. Obviously, I can't just tell him the truth.

'Why did you kiss me, Clary?'

'Because you're everything to me, Jace. You're all I ever think about. You're all that I want. I'm absolutely crazy about you.'

Yeah, I don't think so. He'd most probably have me committed.

"Clary?" I feel the door jerk sideways. Jonathan's trying to open it from the outside. "Clary, it's not too late for me to carry you in."

"No!" I pull back with all my strength, but he's too strong for me. My hold is slipping with every second that passes.

"Everyone's watching."

"Let them watch!" I grunt, using both hands now.

"Clary!" I look up to see that Jonathan is standing perfectly still now. He's already got the door open, all my efforts are just going towards trying to shut it again. It's useless, I know, but sitting here all day seems like a better prospect than having to speak to Jace. "Fine. We'll do it the other way instead."

Then he moves in front of the door so I can't pull it shut, and reaches in to pick me up.

"Alright!" I yell, before he's lifted me completely out of the car. "I'll walk, dammit!"

He drops me at once, then waits as I take extra long to retrieve my bag out of the car.

"Are we done?"

"Wait! I forgot something!" I turn back to the car, frantically searching for something to delay me further. Anything. Unfortunately, unlike his room, Jonathan's car is immaculate. He takes as much care of it as he does his drum kit, so there's literally nothing lying around. "Aha!" I exclaim, grabbing the CD-shaped air freshener that's hanging from the rear view mirror.

"What do you want with that?"

"To err… remind me of you?" I hedge, smiling up at him.

"You're weird."

"Your mum's weird," I retort automatically. "I mean…uhm…yeah okay, I'm weird."

"Mum is also weird."

I manage to make it to registration just as it ends, but luckily Mr Wayland marks me in anyway and I get off with just a warning. He's always pretty lenient when it comes to me for some reason. Must be my irresistible charm.

Once that's over with, I seriously consider spending the next hour in the bathrooms instead of going to first period English Lit. I'll just tell Mr Aldertree that I had a dentist appointment or something, and if he does decide phone home, at least Jonathan won't get into trouble for it. He promised to get me to registration on time, that's all. He didn't mention anything about getting me to my individual lessons.

I start heading towards the girl's toilets when Aline suddenly pops up out of nowhere.

"Clary!" She squeals, latching onto my arm. I belatedly realise I'm being steered towards the classroom. "You must be so proud!"

"Proud?" I say, trying to move in the other direction. Her grip is like steel.

"Yeah, of your brother! Mallard Massacre killed it last night."

"They did?" I stop, realising I didn't actually find out what happened yesterday. Weirdly enough, Jonathan didn't mention it this morning either. Maybe he doesn't know yet that I left early? That would explain why he was being so patient with me. If he'd known I hadn't even stayed for his set, there'd be no escaping his wrath.

"Yes, they won by a landslide!"

"They did?" I repeat, my voice dropping this time. _Damn it._ There go my hopes of not having to see Jace for the next few months. That would also explain Jonathan's unusually civil behaviour.

"Of course, weren't you listening when Luke read out the results?"

"Err, actually I left early," I say. "I wasn't feeling too well."

"Oh, that would explain why I didn't see you then! I actually got there a little late. I arrived when that weird band with the hermaphrodite guitarist were finishing up."

"Queen And Her Court?" I laugh at her description of Meliorn.

"That's the one. Mallard Massacre were on straight afterwards."

"So they played well then?" We're dangerously close to the classroom door now. I turn to face her, delaying as much as I can.

"Yeah, they were awesome. Jace seemed a little out of it though. We were all cheering for him at the front, but he didn't even seem to notice."

"That's Jace for you," I say, trying to seem as uninterested as possible. _That was your fault_, _Clary. Completely your fault._ "He's always pretty wrapped up in himself."

"True. Simon's band did well, though," she continues. "They came second. I don't think many of Queen And Her Camp's fans turned up. They kept looking around at the other people in dresses and flailing their arms about."

Well, that's something at least. I don't think Simon had ever really believed they could win this round. To be completely honest, I don't think I did either. But second is a respectable position. It's one up on Smeliorn, anyway. That's enough for me.

"Come on, we'll talk later. Don't want to be late!" She leads me forwards.

"Yeah," I mumble. "Don't want to be late."

Despite my best efforts, my eyes land on Jace the moment I step through the class door. I was planning to play it cool, or at least not to pay him too much attention straight away. That all went out the window as soon as I spotted that wild mess of blonde hair, sitting in his usual suit.

He looks up just as quickly, Aline's incessant chatter alerting him to my presence. I find myself rooted to the spot as our eyes lock. He seems surprised more than anything else, his eyebrows slightly raised as he stares back at me. My expression mirrors his, though the blood in my body seems to have rushed to my cheeks all at once, probably leaving me resembling more like a strawberry than him.

"Clary?" Aline looks back, finally noticing that I haven't moved since I entered the room. "Come and sit down."

"On the contrary," Mr Aldertree pipes up from his desk. I hadn't even realised he was there. "Clarissa seems to be more on the ball than you this morning, Miss Penhallow. You're all going to be sitting an in-class assessment today, so I want everyone on separate tables. You can take the one next to Mr Herondale, and Miss Morgenstern, you can sit behind. And from now on, we will have exam conditions. I want complete silence from all of you and eyes on the front at all times."

_There is a God!_

I have never felt more affection towards Mr Aldertree than I do in this very second. That man is a gift from Heaven. This is the only class I'd forcibly have had to have been in close proximity with Jace today, but now I'm free. For now, at least. I let out a sigh of relief as I walk past Jace, trying not to pay attention to the way his gaze follows me, and sit myself down behind him.

Mr Aldertree comes round afterwards, handing us all the essay topic and then my mind is completely occupied with A Tale of Two Cities for the rest of the hour. Occasionally, my eyes wander to the table in front of me. Jace can't turn around, but it doesn't mean I can't secretly revel in his presence. It's much easier to face him when, well, you're not actually facing…err…his face.

It's afterwards that's the problem.

My plan was to pack away my things as quick as possible, so I could be out of the classroom as soon as I'd handed my essay in. Unfortunately, with me being me, things don't turn out that way. In my haste, I manage to sweep the entire contents of my pencil case onto the floor, so even though I'd actually finished my essay before Jace, he ends up handing his in before me. I decide to then do the opposite and take my time, hoping that Jace would be well on his way to his next lesson by the time I make it out of the door. Again, the fates have it in for me because the second I step out of the room, I walk straight into him. He was leaning by the side of the doorframe, apparently waiting for me. _Damn you, Herondale. Damn you to the pits of hell._

"S-s-sorry!" I gasp, taking a step back immediately. Jace seems unfazed. He looks down at me, smirking slightly.

"Hey," he says, his golden eyes boring into me. Whereas last night they seemed impossibly dark, today they're much brighter. A glowing, more radiant gold.

This can now go two ways. I can respond timidly, which is my first instinct, and let him continue to unsettle me. Or, I can play him at his own game. If he's going to be casual, I can be casual.

I can be really casual. So casual that I'd be turned away from even some low-quality restaurants. _That's_ how casual I'm talking. Watch and learn.

"Hey," I shrug. Nothing says nonchalance like a nice, devil-may-care shrug. _Casual._

In retrospect, perhaps I should have come into school wearing my tracksuit bottoms, y'know, for added casualness. I really need to plan these things better. Next time, maybe.

"Hey," he says again, clearly put off by how well my façade is working. His smirk has become less defined. I just raise my eyebrows at him. "Look, Clary," he coughs. "I think we should talk."

"Talk?" The pitch of my voice rises a little towards the end, but I just about make it seem like I'm not starting to panic. Obviously, I am.

"About…" Jace says, his gaze flicking to the side nervously. "About last night."

"Last night?" My voice goes up a little higher.

"About what…" He gulps, beginning to fidget with the strap of his backpack. "About what happened."

"What happened?" I've probably gone up an octave now. There's a chance he may not have noticed. Maybe.

"Clary…" Now he's getting a little frustrated. I'm not sure I can keep this up for much longer.

"Jace…" I breathe, gritting my teeth.

"Clary, you know what I'm talking about."

"Erm…"

"In the storage room." Man, it sounds so dirty when he says it like that.

"The…storage room?" My gaze subconsciously wanders down to his lips. _Think, Clary. Think. _"Oh! With Meliorn!"

"What!?" He half-shouts, his eyes bugging wide.

"I went to drop off Eric's cymbals, and I overheard Meliorn and Seelie talking." I say, the diversion I needed becoming apparent. _Good thinking. _Jace doesn't seem convinced. "About me."

"Wha- what did they say?" Jace's curiosity wins over, despite himself. That was close.

"She said that…" So, maybe this wasn't the best of ideas after all. "She was angry at Meliorn because all he kept talking about was you. He didn't…I mean…he only…he was using me to get information about Mallard Massacre so they could somehow defeat you." The last part comes out in a rush. "He was never really interested in me. He was just looking to cause trouble." I don't realise quite how much this affects me until I hear the solemnity in my own voice. Even if I wasn't into Meliorn, the idea that he never liked me at all is, frankly, a little depressing.

"HE WHAT!?" Either way, my story has the desired effect. Jace pushes himself away from the door, throwing his arms up. "THAT GOOD-FOR-NOTHING LITTLE SLIMEBALL! I swear, if I ever so much as see Smeliorn again I will…I'll…"

"Yeah," I mutter. "You think on that, I'll just…" I use the time to move out of his way, starting to head towards my next class.

"No, Clary! Wait!" Jace calls, grabbing my wrist. I try to ignore the shiver that goes up my arm at his touch. It seems to momentarily take him off guard too. "We still need to…we have to…"

"I'm going to be late, Jace," I say, indicating towards my watch. "I've got History with Mr Starkweather, and he'll put me in detention for the rest of the week."

"Oh, okay." His face falls slightly, but he nods. "So…later, then?"

"Yeah," I agree, though I'm not going to guarantee anything. Later will come at the point when I can literally no longer hold him off. Speaking of… "Erm, Jace?"

"Ah, sorry." He finally remembers to let go of me and tucks his hand in his pocket. "I'll see you later."

"Yep. Later." Then I turn and go to class, sighing with relief. That was close. I got away with it, but it might not be so easy next time.

Throughout History, I let Isabelle's constant ramblings distract me from thinking too much about him. She tells me more about what happened last night, and how she was so happy for Simon. Apparently, there were only ten votes that separated Hammer To The Tool Shed and Mallard Massacre. So in one respect, it was close enough that it was a small victory in itself, but it did mean that my vote wouldn't have made much difference. She does ask where I'd gone to after their set, so I give the headache story as well and we leave it at that. Luckily, she's still so excited about last night that she doesn't think too much on it.

Biology is a little more difficult. Miss Blackthorn is in one of her moods again, so every time Simon tries to talk to me, she calls him out on it. Unfortunately, this leaves me to be plagued with my thoughts again. No matter how much I try to block it out, my mind keeps wandering back to last night and that kiss. Even though the idea of it horrifies me, the kiss itself is a whole other story. Just remembering how it was to be with Jace like that leaves me wanting more. I was so caught up in the moment, I can't quite remember the details, but I do know that I loved every second of it. I vaguely recall Jace's arm around me, though I can't be sure if he kissed me back. I'd like to think he might have done, but I was so dominant in the situation that it could have been either way.

What's killing me is that I have no idea how he felt about it.

Perhaps I should just talk to him, but I know I'm not ready for that yet. He didn't look disgusted when I pulled away. If he really were so opposed to the idea, he probably wouldn't have let it go on for as long as it did. That's the way I see it, anyway. He just seemed more surprised than anything. Well, I would be too if my best friend's sibling just attacked me like that. That would be Alec, then. Yeah okay, given the fact that he's gay, I'd _definitely_ be surprised. But this is different. It almost feels like this has been building up for a while. This past month definitely has been messing with my emotions. I knew I'd snap eventually, I just thought that my snapping would have less to do with jumping Jace.

But it's okay, I remind myself. I don't have to look at it in too much detail yet. I'll leave that for later.

It turns out that in Jace's book, later means at lunch.

The moment I see him heading down the corridor, I know he's looking for me. It's the way that his head is swivelling around, though it's facing more towards the ground. If he were looking for one of his friends, he'd be searching at eye level. Even Isabelle isn't that much shorter than him. So, unless he's in desperate need of Mr Aldertree, he's on the hunt for yours truly.

I look around wildly, searching for some sort of escape. The room to the right of me is occupied by Starkweather's detention group, and the room to the left of me is locked. As more and more people begin to head outside or to the canteen, the corridor becomes increasingly empty. It won't be long before he spots me. It's not like my hair is that easy to miss. Then again, my running around like a headless chicken isn't doing much to help my case. I decide to call my previous strategy into play.

Casual.

I'll just walk straight past him, and hope he doesn't notice me.

So this is what I do. I pull up my backpack, place my hands on the straps resolutely and head in his direction. At first, it works. He doesn't seem to notice me as I approach him, but then as soon as I hit his field of vision, he immediately zeroes in on my hair. Maybe I should have used up the rest of Jonathan's dye and gone with black? So that's the plan for tomorrow. Black hair and sweatpants.

"Clary?"

I keep walking, pretending I haven't heard him.

"Clary?" He steps in front of me, blocking my way. I try to dodge to the side, keeping my eyes on the floor, but he mirrors my actions. He's not going to let me go that easily.

"Jace!?" I look up, faking astonishment. "I didn't see you there."

"Clary," he says, his voice without inflection. "We can't keep avoiding this forever."

"Avoiding what?" I laugh nervously, still holding on to my backpack.

"Are you really just going to pretend like nothing happened last night?"

"Jace…" I say, incredibly wary of the fact that there are still a few people milling about the corridor. Jace isn't exactly a wallflower in the school community, and any new gossip regarding him would travel fast.

"Can we just go somewhere to talk, please?"

"We are somewhere."

"Somewhere _private._"

"Well…anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my brother!" I exclaim, straightening up. _Bingo._

"I don't think this is something you'd want Jonathan to hear…"

"What wouldn't you want me to hear?" Jonathan says, striding up to the two of us. I'd spotted him down the corridor a second ago. Now that he's here – saving me, albeit unknowingly - I almost regret causing him so much trouble this morning. Almost.

"J-Jon!" Jace splutters. "I've been looking all over for you, dude!"

"So? What is it?" He eyes Jace suspiciously, then looks to me.

"What's what?" Jace chuckles, shrugging. Oh come on, even I could pull off casual better than that. Amateur.

"This _thing_ you wouldn't want me to hear."

So Jace uses the exact same excuse I used earlier. He tells Jonathan all about Meliorn and his little plan with Seelie, though he conveniently misses out the part where I went out with him for coffee. Jonathan doesn't need to know about that. Weirdly enough, my brother is even more incensed than Jace was. At the point when he looks like he might just be about to strangle someone, I decide to slip out of their view and make my escape.

That's twice now. Let's hope I can keep this up for at least the next ten years or so.

On the way home, I call shotgun as soon as I approach the car, nudging Jordan out of the front passenger seat. I tell them that since they've never actually considered me being allowed to sit anywhere other than the back, it's about time I had my chance. Jonathan glances at me quizzically, but he doesn't question it. Unfortunately, Jace is in the seat directly behind mine, so I have to avoid looking at him during the journey through the side view mirror. Then, as soon as we get home, I rush straight to my room so there's no chance Jace can catch me. I had hoped we would avoid this situation altogether since the next round of the Battle of the Bands is about a month away, but Jonathan gave me some crap about 'striking while the iron is hot' and that they shouldn't become lazy just because their epicness had been proved.

After a few hours of trying to read while their practice continued on below, I'm finally met with the silence I look forward to every evening. It's become sort of a habit that I stay upstairs while they're playing, and then the moment they're all gone, I go straight down and spend the rest of the day as I wish. I give them around ten minutes to pack up their things, then when I finally decide they must have all gone, I start to head out of my room.

I open my bedroom door, ready to venture downstairs. Then I try to shut it again straight away, after getting over the initial shock of seeing him on the other side.

"Wait!" Jace wedges his foot in the doorway, stopping me from closing it on him. "Clary, just listen to me!"

"I can't believe you've been waiting there for me!" I turn around, using my back to push the door against him.

"How else am I meant to get you to talk to me? What was your plan, to just dodge me for the rest of the year?"

"For the next ten years, actually," I mumble. Just like with Jonathan this morning, I know my attempts to keep him out are useless. Suddenly, the pressure goes away completely. I turn around to see Jace has let go of the door.

"Just one minute," he pleads, his expression so sincere I release my hold. "All I want is one minute. Then I'll go, and if you want, we can just forget it ever happened."

"Fine," I sigh, stepping aside. "One minute." I shut the door.

I can survive sixty seconds of complete humiliation. Sixty seconds then I won't have to think about it again.

That prospect actually hurts more than the first part. But fine, if I either have to pretend it meant nothing, or tell him exactly what I feel about him, the former definitely seems a lot easier.

"Last night," he says, taking a deep breath. "You kissed me, Clary."

"Did I?" I roll my eyes, completely sarcastic this time. "I didn't realise."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why…why did you kiss me?" He looks nervous as he says it, his hands in his pocket. This is possibly the most unsure I've ever seen him. He can barely even look at me.

"Honestly? I don't know." I look down at my feet. That's the truth, I had no one reason for kissing him. Yes, I'm incredibly attracted to him, but it was more than that. It was just as much out of anger as it were anything else. "I just…I guess, I just wanted to."

"Is that it?"

"What do you mean, _is that it_?" I look up at him now. Did he think this was just some sort of an experiment for me? "What do you want me to say Jace? Do you think I have any more idea about any of this than you do? I'm not the one who has a thousand people lining up after her. I haven't got a clue. Okay? I. Don't. Know. I don't know anything. So if you came here looking for an explanation, then I'm sorry, but I can't give you one. It's not exactly like I do this kind of thing on a regular basis, or _ever _even, so if that's all you have to say to me then you can get lost right now, because I don't have time for your crap Jace Heron… "

"Clary," he interrupts me. "Shut up."

Then he closes the distance between us in one stride and his lips crash onto mine. At first, I'm too stunned to even respond. It all happens so fast that I don't even have time to process what he's about to do. He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me closer as the other hand holds my face, trapping me against him.

But then I kiss him back, our lips moving urgently against one another. I push myself up on my tiptoes and slide my arms around his neck as he moves both of his to my waist, the two of us locked in a tight embrace. My fingers knot in his hair, trying to pull him as close as I possibly can and he responds by clutching me even tighter, his hands splaying out across my back.

If I thought last night was amazing, this is indescribable. Whereas our last kiss was fuelled by anger, this time I can feel everything. The way his lips move against mine, the way he holds me like he'll never let go of me again. And then so soon, much too soon, our lungs ruin the moment.

We pull apart, gasping for breath, but he doesn't release his hold on me. He just rests his forehead against mine, smirking at me.

"That," he says. "Is what I've been trying to tell you all day."

"Just that?"

"Just that."

"Well, then it's definitely a good thing I didn't let you tell me at school."

"Perhaps," he laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Though I'm sure Mr Aldertree would have enjoyed it."

"I don't doubt that."

"So…I'm guessing that's my minute up." He turns his head slightly, nudging my watch.

"Not in Narnian time it isn't," I say, biting my lip.

And then I kiss him again.

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**Things are getting steamy in here...**

**Aha I hope that satisfied your three-day long wait for Clace. Or rather for some of you, a two and a half month wait. I commend you all on your patience.**

**Thank you again for reading, and let me know what you thought. Too little? Too much? Want more? ;)**

**Till Sunday friends...**

**smim xx**


	19. Chapter 19: Trying not to slip up

**Hey guys! Thanks to all of you for reading the last chapter! I actually just moved back to university this weekend, so I've been so busy packing and unpacking that I haven't been able to get back to everyone, so sorry if I didn't get round to replying to some of you. Everything's been pretty hectic these past few days. It does mean that I am currently sending out this chapter from the heart of London, so greetings from the capital. And before I finally pass out, here it is!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or any of its characters, but I do have a new flat wooop**

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**Chapter 19: Trying not to slip up**

It's the fifth of November and, just like every year, I'm waiting for the Bonfire Night celebrations to begin. As per tradition, I've walked down to the local park with my family, though Jonathan had a bit of a sulk about not being able to take his car. Seriously though, it's ten minutes away. He's become such a lazy bugger since he passed his driving test. Anyway, so far, things seem pretty normal. It's always the same routine – Dad helps set up the bonfire with some of the other guys from town, then we all stand back and watch them set it alight, before they start the firework display. I'm decked out in my arctic-style clothing as I always am, prepared for the harsh November cold. Everything else is on schedule. The bonfire is burning brightly, sending sparks into the air. The kids are running around manically, despite the many hazards, chasing each other with glowing sticks. There's just one thing that's changed:

The boy that stands to my side, his half-smile still visible in the flickering light of the blazing logs.

If you'd told me back on the first day of term that, in two months' time, Jace Herondale would be my boyfriend, then in all fairness I would have slapped you. Well, I'd definitely have mentally slapped you. In reality, I'd probably just have gasped dramatically and backed away. Then I would have referred you to an exorcist.

Jace was my annoying big brother's even more annoying best friend. That was it. To be completely honest, he still fits that description, though now I'd have to make a few changes. These past few weeks have been so crazy, it's as if I've been holding onto the end of a runaway spaceship. That's how extreme I'm talking. A runaway car wouldn't be wild enough. Only a vessel travelling at light-speed through the vacuous galaxies could sufficiently simulate my emotions.

And now?

The ship has crash-landed at the end of the universe, dumped me rather unceremoniously in the hills of this new world, and left me to process the journey I've just been through. It's been overwhelming to say the least.

Yes, I realise I have just used Captain Jack Harkness' adventure with the TARDIS to describe my relationship with Jace. Really though, there is no better anecdote.

For the past thirteen or so years, Jace has been Jonathan's closest confidante. He's been the Sam to Jon's Frodo, the Merlin to his Arthur, the Chloe Sullivan to his Clark Kent. Just ignore the fact that Chloe used to have a crush on Clark, and that last one would totally work.

My point is that, all this time, Jace and Jonathan have been inseparable. They've come as a pair for as long as I can remember. But now, there's not one, but _two _Morgensterns drawing him to my house.

No, I am not referring to my mother.

Damn.

I'd really rather hoped that would never have crossed my mind again.

The last thing I would ever have imagined is that instead of constantly being associated with Jonathan, Jace would become _my_ partner-in-crime. This past week, it's certainly felt that way anyhow. You see, we've both decided that Jonathan should be the first to know about us, considering he's the one who is likely to be most affected by the new situation; as a result of that, we've had to try to keep it a secret from everyone else. We've had to convince everyone around us that things are just the same between us. That's meant no hanging out together in public, no unnecessary smiles in the corridors and, finally, absolutely no prolonged eye contact. Jace initially thought my terms were a little _too_ thorough, but I told him he was underestimating my brother and more importantly, the school populace. In such an intense environment, everything is blown out of proportion, and I didn't want anyone getting the slightest idea of what was going on before Jonathan had had time to think it through. Plus, I don't quite trust myself to behave properly around him yet. Prolonged eye contact with Jace is incredibly dangerous. Very dangerous indeed.

Unfortunately, it's been much harder than I thought it would be. I'd figured that since I'd been able to hide my feelings from Isabelle and Simon for so long already, it shouldn't have been too much of a stretch to keep things quiet for a little more time.

Obviously, I'd disregarded my need to parade my new, gorgeous boyfriend around the school and mark my territory. I knew Jace wasn't exactly unpopular with the ladies, but I hadn't realised how much that bothered me until I walked into school on Tuesday morning, and heard a few of the girls in my History class gushing over how he'd looked at the gig. One of them was pretty sure he'd been paying particular attention to her afterwards, and she was very comprehensive in detailing exactly how she intended to convey her interest.

I'd never counted myself as the jealous type until that moment. I wanted nothing more than to just casually mention to them that he was, in fact, very much taken. And no, he would not be interested in the slightest in having a swim in her private pool. Though as luck would have it, Isabelle happened to be sitting right next to me at the time, so unfortunately, I had to hold my tongue. I also hadn't realised how much I'd been dying to offload to another female. Jace and I hadn't exactly had an in-depth discussion about our situation, so I missed having Isabelle to confide in so that she could analyse and dissect everything with me. Similarly, since I'd promised Simon before that he'd be the first to know if anything like that were to happen in my life, I felt incessantly guilty around him too. But this didn't have to continue. Of course, all of these problems would disappear as soon as Jonathan had been informed.

The trouble is, neither of us have been able to find the right time to tell him.

We don't quite have the guts to do it alone, but then our time together is limited. After school, the band is always around so we'd be hard pressed to get Jonathan on his own. Once he's settled down at his drum kit, it'd take a life-threatening emergency to force him to get up before the end of practice. Before school, it's equally as difficult. There's not much leeway between our arrival in his car and the point at which he'd meet up with Camille and her friends for registration.

So you see our problem.

On the other hand, I'm not saying that I haven't enjoyed parts of the last week. Even with all the sneaking around and lack of eye contact in public, it doesn't mean that we still haven't found time to meet up.

The evening of our second kiss, it turned out that Jace had told Jonathan he'd left something in his room the other day, so he had to leave much too soon for my liking in case he missed his lift home. But the next day, he made an excuse about having to ask me for some help on the English Lit homework, so we managed to have another couple of minutes to ourselves. On Wednesday evening, he'd conveniently forgotten what the new piece of homework was and yesterday, since we were worried Jonathan may be growing slightly suspicious, Jace took extra long packing up his gear so the boys eventually got fed up and waited in the car for him, giving me my opportunity to meet him in the practice room.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," Jace had said, playing with a loose strand of my hair. "Telling Jonathan, I mean."

"What?" I raised my eyebrows, pulling away slightly so I could look up at his face.

"I'm not saying we'll never tell him," he amended. "I just don't see the harm in keeping it quiet for a little bit longer."

"But this is so hard, Jace! I have to think through everything I ever say-"

"Yeah, that's probably pretty hard for you…" Jace interrupted, smirking at me.

"Shut up." I smacked him in the shoulder, though with less force than normal. "I'm serious!"

"So am I!" Then he raised his hands up in defence. "Okay, okay. Just look at it this way: pretend you're in a spy film or something. That'll make you feel less bad."

"Yes, because I'm sure there are plenty of spy films centred around two teenagers trying to buy themselves a couple of minutes a day, just so they can make out."

"How quickly you dismiss our love…"

"Jace!" I glared at him. "What's this really about?"

"It's…erm…" After a few more seconds of stalling, he finally gave up. His shoulders drooped as he looked me in the eyes. "I'm scared."

"Scared?" I laughed once in disbelief. "Of _Jonathan!?_ But…he's your best friend."

"He's also your big brother." I tried to see if there were any signs that he was joking, but his expression was completely serious. "This is unknown territory for us. You saw how he was the other day when he heard about Meliorn. Who knows how he'd react?"

"But that was different…"

"Is it really?" He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room as he spoke. "This is a whole other kind of betrayal. I mean, what am I even meant to say? 'Hey Jon! You know Clary, your little sister? You know how you've said in the past that you don't want her to have a boyfriend until she's at least thirty? Well, what if it's me? Surprise!'"

I just gaped him. Mainly, because it was the first time he'd ever referred to himself as my boyfriend, but also because I hadn't realised before exactly how protective Jonathan could be. It both warmed my heart and scared the crap out of me at the same time. I'd always counted on him being indifferent and too absorbed with the band to really care about anything else, so I hadn't been too worried about telling him before. I assumed he'd probably be awkward around us for a bit, but then he'd forget about it and move on. Jace knew him better than anyone, so if he were genuinely scared, perhaps things wouldn't be so smooth sailing after all.

This is why we'd decided we'd tell Jonathan together, so depending on who he was more angry at, the other could help to diffuse the situation. In fact, we'd specifically planned to tell him tonight, at the bonfire.

And we will, that is, if we can figure out where he's gone. He disappeared not long after the bonfire was lit, and neither of us have been able to spot him since.

"You need to relax, Midge," Jace whispers, nudging me. "He'll be back."

"And then what?" I say, still looking around. "We can't tell him here. My parents are only a few metres away."

I notice my father glance behind at us briefly, then he turns back to face the display. There's no way we can risk telling Jon with Valentine Morgenstern in such close proximity. Not if we value our lives, anyhow.

"We'll lead him away. They have a popcorn stand over there, he loves that stuff."

"We're going to distract him with popcorn?"

"Exactly!" Jace nods as his plan begins to take shape. "Then we'll tell him while he's eating, so even if he is upset, he'll be conflicted from all the positive feelings he'll be getting from the popcorn."

"And you think that's going to work?"

"Well, I don't see you coming up with any better plans. Plus, there's a pretty big crowd here and it's still fairly dark. So, if it comes down to it, we can still run and there's a chance he won't find us."

"You inspire me with so much hope…" I roll my eyes, looking up at him.

"I do my best, dear," he says, throwing his arm over my shoulder. "I do my best."

Then for some reason, he begins swatting at me instead and brings his arm straight back down.

"Mr Morgenstern!" He chokes, eyes wide. _Crap._

"Dad?" I turn to face my father, instinctively taking a step away from Jace.

"Clarissa!" Dad puts his own arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. He nods at Jace. "Jonathan."

"What are you doing back here, Dad?" I say, glancing nervously between the two men. "Didn't you want to watch the bonfire?"

"No," he shakes his head solemnly. "Guy Fawkes means nothing to the Swiss. I only come for the burning of the wood." He looks straight at Jace as he continues to speak. "I enjoy the way the fire consumes the logs, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. It's a slow burn. The flames begin to lick at the base of the bonfire, then ever so gently they creep their way up, until they converge in a blazing tornado of fire. Nothing could survive such an assault, let alone a pathetic effigy. Nothing."

I can hear Jace gulp, even from this distance.

"That's…err, really interesting, Dad." I try to shrug him off. His grip tightens in response.

"Tell me, Jonathan. What is your opinion on the matter?"

"Erm…" Jace glances at me frantically, then looks back at my father. "Fire is…good."

"Not the fire, Jonathan. The burning of the effigy. What do you make of Guy Fawkes?"

"Well…" Jace hesitates again. "It all happened a very long time ago. Personally, I'm quite neutral."

"Neutral, eh?" Dad perks up a bit at this.

"Yes," Jace nods, encouraged by this train of thought. "I'm completely neutral. Very neutral. So neutral you'd never be able to put me in gear."

"Well…" Dad coughs, then releases me. "I hope you stay that way, Jonathan."

"Absolutely, Sir."

"And why, may I ask, are you two standing so far back?"

"Erm…as a safety precaution?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there are many sparks flying from the bonfire." Jace appears to be making this up as he goes along, nervously eyeing both my father and then the fire. "Not that it's not…err…beautiful, but I thought it would be safer to view from afar."

"Indeed." Valentine nods, then looks over one more time as he walks away. "It would do you well to remember that, Jonathan. It would do you well."

As soon as my father is out of earshot, Jace lets out the breath he's been holding. He looks like he might be about to pass out at any moment.

"So…perhaps we shouldn't tell Jonathan just yet?" I offer. Jace just stares off into the distance, shivering slightly, though I have a feeling that may not be just because of the cold. "I'll take that as a no."

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**So there it is! I'm sorry I couldn't make this chapter longer, I hope it wasn't too action-free for you :P More was meant to happen, but it's like 3am right now and I have lectures to prepare for, so it was a choice between posting what I'd managed to do or waiting until Wednesday. It's a hard life being a student...**

**Thank you so much for reading though! All of the other great characters will be back in the next chapter, and it's going to be a pretty hilarious one so I hope you all stick around for that.**

**See you guys on Wednesday...**

**smim xx**


	20. Chapter 20: Trying not to live in sin

**Hey guys! Thanks again for the feedback, and welcome to those of you who are new to this story! Hope you like this chapter ;)**

**Just noticed it's 3am again, but that means only 16 hours until I get to see The Getaway Plan (best australian band ever seriously) and Sleeping with Sirens yeeeess**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters and I still need to buy my new econ textbook damn**

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**Chapter 20: Trying not to live in sin**

"Jace, stop it!" I snap at him, trying to focus on the classwork; Mr Aldertree has asked us to re-read our essays on A Tale of Two Cities from last week. Jace retracts his hand from the desk, a smug look on his face.

"What?" He says, his eyes widening innocently. "I'm trying to work here, Midge. Stop distracting me." Then he turns back to his own essay, scanning through it intently. I eye him warily for a few seconds, then return to mine.

Five minutes later out of the corner of my eye, I see his hand creeping along the desk again, slowly making its way towards mine. I guess it's pretty convenient that he's left-handed and I'm right-handed. Well, both convenient and annoying. It's almost as if he's deliberately trying to sabotage our secrecy.

As soon as his hand is within reach, I switch to holding my pencil with my left and whack him across the knuckles with it. His mouth flies open in shock and, I like to think, pain.

"Do we have a problem here, Miss Morgenstern?" Mr Aldertree strides up to our table, noticing Jace's agonised expression.

"Nope," I smile up at him. "No problem at all."

"Actually," Jace interrupts. "Yes."

Mr Aldertree turns to him, pursing his lips. "Really, Mr Herondale?"

"Yes," Jace says again, nodding this time. "I was just trying to get some water." He indicates towards _my_ water bottle. "And Clarissa hit me."

"She did what?" Mr Aldertree gapes at me.

"She reached out and just…" Jace chokes out, holding his injured hand to his chest. "She just…bludgeoned it with her pencil."

"Miss Morgenstern! That doesn't sound like you."

"No, it doesn't, does it?" I say, narrowing my eyes at Jace. He scrunches up his face in response, his bottom lip rippling as if he's about to cry. I hate to admit it, but he looks _adorable._ Sneaky little git.

"So what is your version of events?"

"Well…" I begin. Jace raises an eyebrow, daring me to tell the truth. "He was…there's more to it than that."

"Well, perhaps you can mull that over in detention after school." Mr Aldertree holds out his hand for my planner. My mouth drops open.

"Detention?" I squeak, noticing Jace looks just as shocked as I do. My record is perfect. _Perfect._ The only time I've even come close to getting a detention was when I did Simon's art homework for him years ago. He occasionally used to help me with my maths, so I thought I'd return the favour. Of course, our art teacher Mrs Branwell was flabbergasted by the overnight transformation in Simon's work and she called us both back after class, only to then let me off since she believed I did it 'out of the goodness of my heart.' I secretly suspect she's also pretty lenient because we're both redheads. So you can imagine that now, after spending my entire life without punishable academic sin, to get a detention for _smacking Jace with a pencil _of all things is a complete travesty.

"Sir," Jace speaks up. "Is that really necessary?"

"Violence is not permitted in my classroom, Mr Herondale. No matter how serious or mild. I have a zero tolerance policy." Mr Aldertree gestures for me to hand over my planner again.

"Well in that case…"

Just as I'm about to reach over for my planner, I see something approach me too fast for me to draw back and then a stinging pain runs up my fingers. Jace has just hit me with his ruler.

"Jace!" I gasp, clutching my fingers to my chest. "What the _hell_!?"

"Sorry, was that too much?" He reaches out to me instinctively, then pulls back when he sees the expression on Mr Aldertree's face.

"JONATHAN HERONDALE!" The teacher barks out, his face reddening.

"Sorry, Sir." Jace holds his planner out to him, like a criminal waiting to be handcuffed. "I understand you have no choice. Zero tolerance policy."

"I…I…" Mr Aldertree looks between the two of us and snatches both of our planners off of the table. "You can have these back at the end of the class." Then he confiscates my pencil and Jace's ruler. "You can have _these_ back at the end of the year."

Once he's out of earshot, I drop my hand and turn to glare at Jace. He's smiling! Instead of having the decency to look apologetic or even grim, he's grinning toothily at me.

"What?" I snap. "What's so funny?"

"Detention," he says, trying and failing to contain his misplaced joy. "There's a set time, set place. Just us. That'll _technically_ be our first date."

Wow, I'd never actually thought of it that way. How romantic.

"You're an idiot," I roll my eyes at him, though I find myself smiling anyway.

"Proud of it, too." Then he reaches under the table and grabs my hand. This time, I let him.

Simon and Isabelle's reactions to my felony are quite different. Isabelle doubles over at lunchtime trying to catch her breath, while Simon paces around the table muttering to himself. He seems much more concerned about the blemish on my school reference than I do. If anything, I'm kind of happy about it. Art students should have moments of impulsivity and rebel against the system, so they can provide interesting and wild anecdotes on demand. Now one of mine can start with, 'this reminds me of that time I violently clubbed someone with a 2B pencil…'

"Izzy, you're not helping!" He says, slumping back down into his chair.

"B-but…" She wheezes. "But…p-p-pencil!"

"This is going on her record, Isabelle!" Simon chastises her, turning his worried gaze on me. "One more year, Clary. That's all you have before you send off your university application. Couldn't you have kept out of trouble for just one more year?"

"Oh, do calm down dear!" Isabelle places her hand on Simon's shoulder. "It's just one measly detention, that's pretty good for a six-year record. The same as yours, if I remember correctly?"

"Well…that was…" Simon coughs. "Different."

"You let Clary do your homework for you – that's cheating. All she did was hit Jace with a pencil. If anything, she should be getting rewarded for that."

"Oi!" Jace gasps, making me scoot over. Then, as if it's not something completely out of the ordinary, he sits down right next to me. Isabelle's laughter cuts off at once and Simon has to push his glasses back up. "That wasn't very nice, Isabelle."

"I…err…"

"What are you doing here, Jace?" I say to him, pretending to be as surprised as they are, with an equal amount of my old disgust.

"I've come to sit next to my favourite Year 12s, what else?" Then he grabs a sandwich out of his bag and begins munching on it. The rest of us just continue to stare at him.

"What are you _really_ doing here, Jace?"

He puts a hand up as he takes his time chewing on his bite of the sandwich. Then he makes a show of swallowing, and gestures for me to speak again.

"You heard me the first time."

"Fine, Jonathan banished me from his table." Jace leans back, a faraway look in his eyes.

"He banished you?" Simon asks, still seeming very uncomfortable with the new eating arrangements. He subconsciously moves closer to Isabelle.

"Getting detention means I miss part of practice. He's furious, to say the least." Then he looks at me. "Especially with you."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because I told him you started it."

"But…but you…" He grins at me again, realising it's not in my best interest for Jonathan to find out the truth.

"That's a point…" Isabelle looks at the two of us. "You never did tell us _why_ you hit Jace."

"Do I need a reason?" I retort, skirting the subject again.

"I guess not," Isabelle grins, while Jace glares at me.

"I'm really not pleased with all this me-bashing today," he says. "I came here, to your table, in the hope that you might offer me solace after my banishment. And what do I get instead? Mockery. Perhaps, I should have just gone and sat with Aline instead."

"Perhaps," I nod at him. "Mockery is all we have to offer, I'm afraid."

"Really?" He smirks. "Are you sure that's all you can offer me?"

I just stare at him, but in my head I'm imagining my hands around his neck. I'm _strangling_ him, geez. Mind out of the gutter, people. Does he not realise that Isabelle and Simon are sitting _right opposite_ us? There he is, making all these suggestive comments, playing with my hormones and meanwhile risking our exposition. It really is like being in a spy film, now that I think about it. Again, it's like he wants us to be discovered. Is he really so scared of telling Jonathan, that he'd rather he found out from someone else?

"Banana," I blurt out, for lack of a better subject change. _For goodness' sake, brain._ _One job, I give you. One job. To think. _Okay, so you have thousands of jobs, but that is not my point. Priorities are my point - a good comeback is obviously more important than motor neuron functions. All those cells, and banana is the best you can do_. _What is wrong with me?

"Huh?"

"Banana?" I hand him a banana from my backpack. "I can also offer you a banana."

"Ehh…" He shrugs, taking it from me. "That's good enough for now."

Isabelle and Simon just gape at the two of us as we finish the rest of our lunch in silence. I don't blame them.

Before I know it, the rest of the lessons are over and Jace and I are standing outside Mr Aldertree's office, awaiting our sentence. I could almost swear that some of the students tutted at us, passing their judgement. I feel like the situation requires me to be wearing some sort of jumpsuit or a sign that reads 'criminal.' That mark on my record suddenly doesn't look so exciting, especially since there's no way of keeping it from my parents. Jonathan is one of the last students to leave. He glances at the two of us, crossing his arms.

Then he just glares at me for a while, shaking his head slowly.

"Clary Clary Clary…" He mumbles, inhaling deeply. "It shames me to know that your villainous blood also runs through my veins."

"Jonathan, you're in detention all the time," I snap back at him, though I avoid his gaze.

"But never for violence, oh no. Never for that. Just think of the look on our poor mother's face, as she tells you that they raised you better than that. Then think of our crestfallen father, his bushy eyebrows pulled down in disappointment. He'd tell you…"

"It wasn't very Swiss of me, I know." I roll my eyes at him.

"And you, Jace," now Jonathan looks at him. "Dude, you should have used a wooden ruler. Those hurt like a bitch."

"Jon!" I reach forward, smacking him across the shoulder.

"Miss Morgenstern!" I hear Mr Aldertree's voice calling down the corridor. _Oh crappity crap crap. _"Really, Clarissa! You are lucky that you're out of the classroom right now, or that would have meant another detention. Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into you today. Girls should be meek and gentle. Innocent little ducklings."

"Clearly, you underestimate ducklings…" Jace mutters under his breath, as Jonathan holds my arm to calm me down.

"Mr Morgenstern, you may leave now."

"As you wish, Sir." Jonathan grins, then turns on his heel. "Have fun you two!"

"Oh they definitely will!" Mr Aldertree claps his hands, then gestures for us to follow him. "This way!"

"But…" I look back at the office as we walk behind him. "Don't we normally have detentions in the office?"

"Not today…" Mr Aldertree chuckles. "Today we have a special kind of detention for you." Then he stops outside the furthest classroom to the right and opens the door to let us in. Mr Wayland – my form tutor - looks up from his desk as we walk in.

"Ah, Michael!" Mr Aldertree smiles. It's always so weird to hear teachers called by their first names. I sometimes forget they have lives outside of school. "I have brought the help you asked for. Tonight, Mr Herondale and Miss Morgenstern will help with you with the new class displays."

"Clary?" Mr Wayland seems surprised to see me. _Aren't we all, Sir? _

"Hello," I smile awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.

"Well," he straightens up, indicating for us to come in. "I've just got some boards in the classroom I need to decorate, it's nothing too strenuous."

"Wait, so you deliberately gave us a detention because Mr Wayland needed help?" Jace turns on Mr Aldertree accusingly.

"Well…I…oh look, is that the time? I really must hurry! See you later for the Quiz Night, Michael! Have fun, children." Mr Aldertree bumbles, then runs out of the room as quick as his stout little legs will allow.

"Right, well…" Mr Wayland stands up, then shows us to a pile of coloured paper rolls at the back of the classroom. "All you have to do is cut these to size and staple them to the boards, then add the borders to the edges of the displays. There's quite a few to do, so it should take you the whole hour if you do it well. If I'm impressed enough, I'll talk to Mr Aldertree and have this taken off of your record, how does that sound?"

"Oh, wow…thank you, Sir." My eyes widen. Again, his favouritism towards me is paying off.

"Well, it seems only right." He straightens his tie. "I sort of asked Mr Aldertree for some help this evening, so it's my fault he picked you two to be here."

"What?" Jace turns on him now.

"I won't get in your way!" Mr Wayland begins to back out of the room. "I know you'll do well at this, Clary, with art being your strong point and all. Be as creative as you like."

Then he grabs his satchel and follows after Mr Aldertree. "I'll come back to check at the end!"

"Unbelievable!" Jace throws his arms up. "I'm missing band practice to put up board displays!"

"At least it won't be on our records," I offer, reaching for the purple roll of paper. This could actually be quite fun. "Now do you want to do the stapling or the cutting?"

"Well, this isn't quite how I imagined our first date to go…" Jace smirks. "But stapling is always fun."

Half an hour later, the majority of the boards in the class are covered and decorated. I admit, I did go a bit crazy with the colour combinations, but Mr Wayland did ask me to go all out.

"So…" Jace begins again. We've been asking each other random questions since we started. It's always a 'one or the other' type of thing. "Dolphins or unicorns?"

"Unicorns," I answer, almost immediately. "They're so much more interesting to draw, because it's all up to interpretation."

"But they're just horses with horns on their heads…" Jace says, passing me another roll of trimming.

"Blasphemy!" I gasp, pushing him away. "They're not just horses with horns on their heads. We cannot be together if this is the way you think."

"Speaking of," Jace stops stapling. "I need your phone."

"Why?"

"It's an emergency."

I shrug, passing him my mobile. Then I watch as he fumbles with the touch screen, though I can't see what he's doing from here. He hands it back to me with a flourish.

"What was the emergency?"

"I had to call myself."

"Right…" I nod, placing the phone back into my bag. "That would be an emergency."

"So I have your number…" Jace says, waving his own phone at me. "And you now have mine."

"Your number?"

"Yes, Clary." Jace rolls his eyes, stepping closer to me. "I believe the exchanging of numbers is a level we skipped along the way. I mean, you became my girlfriend way before that."

"Actually," I smirk at him. "I never officially became your girlfriend."

"Really?" Jace stops to think at this.

"Yep," I say. "You never actually asked me. "

"Well, there was a lot of the kissing."

"There was, indeed." I feel my cheeks heat up at the memories. There definitely hasn't been a lot of _the talking_ at all this past week.

"That is a problem…" Jace shakes his head. "One I will now rectify."

Then he drops his stapler and picks up a roll of black trimming.

"Clarissa Morgenstern," he says, holding the roll with both hands like a…steering wheel? "Will you do me the great honour of becoming the yin to my yang?"

"Jace…" Seriously, what am I going to do with this boy?

"The beans to my toast? The base to my pizza? The Sub to my Way."

"Jace."

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"I'll think about it…" Eh, might as well play with him a bit.

"After all of those things I came up with!?" His jaw drops. "Were they not good enough for you? Should I have gone with Pizza to my Hut instead?"

"I just think I'd need a bit more convincing. I mean, what can you offer me?" I lean back against the wall, raising my eyebrows at him.

"For starters, I can drive now. So I can offer you transportation."

"That's good. Keep going."

"Sebastian booked us a gig next week, so I have a temporary source of personal income."

I shrug. "Alright, I guess."

"I make a mean chocolate milkshake, so that's beverages covered."

"Beverages are good."

He walks towards me, still twirling the trimming between his fingers.

"I've been told my cereal preparation is quite something, especially Cornflakes."

"Food is useful."

"And…" He leans towards me, placing the roll of trimming on my head. Not a steering wheel then. "I'll never let anyone hurt you, ever again. I know I can be an idiot sometimes, I'm afraid that's inbuilt. But I'll be your idiot, if you'll let me be."

My breath catches in my throat as he comes ever closer. "I'm crazy about you, Clary. I have been for a long time."

"Really?" I whisper, though I don't get to hear the reply because then he's kissing me. Ok, I'm convinced. His persuasive techniques are unparalleled. My arms wind around his neck as he pulls me flush up against him, his lips parting against mine. I let my hands trail down his arms, tracing the hard muscles while he backs me up into the wall. My heart beats so fiercely in my chest, I'm sure he must be able to feel it as our limbs tangle together. Then he moves his lips across my jaw, making his way to the base of my neck. I grab a fistful of his hair, about to bring his lips back to mine when I hear a throaty cough.

We break apart instantly.

Mr Wayland stands at the door, his expression frozen in shock.

_Kill me. Right now. _

Then he coughs again.

"When I said be creative, I don't think you quite got what I meant."

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**Ehehe**

**How embarrassing. **

**What'd you think of their first date?**

**Till Sunday...**

**smim xx**


	21. Chapter 21: Trying not to die of shame

**Hey guys! Thank you so much to everyone for reading the last chapter. I'm sorry I haven't been able to get back to you all yet, I'll try my best in the next couple of days. The truth is, I've been pretty busy again. So for those of you who are also getting impatient about my updates: it's great to see how much you anticipate the next chapters, but please bear in mind, I am only human. I have to juggle writing two chapters a week, along with doing an ungodly amount of Maths since university has started up again, so my schedule is really packed. I no longer have time to write chapters in advance so whenever I post a new one, it is literally hot off the press. That's why if I do update a few hours late, or even a few days late as the case may be in the future, please just be patient with me. I'm doing my best, honestly. Half of my friends don't even have time to watch TV given all the work we have to do, so writing thousands of words a week isn't easy. I'm not complaining at all, because I really do love this fic and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying it, just please spare a thought for that when you're waiting. Plus, you all live in completely different timezones so I can't control when you get an update. To be on the safe side, I'd say just check every Monday and Thursday and the next chapters _should_ be up. **

**Sorry, rant over.**

**Thank you again to all of you though. You guys are the reason I do this and even if I can't reply straight away, know that I do read every single of your comments and they are my primary source of motivation. Love you all! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or any of its characters, and my car is also still alive.**

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**Chapter 21: Trying not to die of shame**

You know those times when you wish a wormhole would suddenly appear right in front of you to transport you to another universe, or even just an endless void so you can implode into yourself and cease to exist? Well, this is how I feel every morning at registration. This is what I want when Mr Wayland calls out the register, his voice always lowering to an almost-whisper when he reads 'Err…Clarissa?' and tries to avoid my gaze. Sometimes he just coughs violently instead, my name coming out as something garbled beyond recognition. And other times, he doesn't need to say anything at all. I just notice the way his cheeks flush as he scans over the words, so I save him the trouble and answer in the affirmative anyway.

It's been a week since he caught us that evening, and it doesn't seem like things will blow over anytime soon. Luckily, it doesn't seem like he's told anyone else, so at least our secret's safe for the moment. At the time, he was so stunned that he didn't say much more to us. He just moved aside, allowing the two of us to run out of the class as swiftly as was physically possible. Jace seemed to find the whole ordeal a lot more amusing than I did, but then again, he's not the one who has to deal with seeing Mr Wayland every single day. I haven't even dared to ask Mr Aldertree if the detention was removed from our record, for fear of dredging up any more memories from that night.

Of course, it hasn't all been completely awful. The time alone definitely gave Jace and I an opportunity to reassess our relationship, and he really has started taking everything a little more seriously. In fact, tonight he's taking me out on our first _real_ date, since I'd rather forget the last one ever happened. Apparently Jonathan's a little behind in his Physics project, so he's being kept back after school for a couple of hours with Mr Mortmain, giving Jace a chance to escape from him and spend some of the evening with me. The only downside to being with Jace, is that being my boyfriend – I still get a little dazed whenever I use that word – hasn't stopped him from being just as annoying as he always has been. If anything, he's gotten even worse.

I'm seriously considering changing my number, because ever since the day he got hold of it, he hasn't _stopped texting me_. It's not even in the cute, 'good morning, dear,' or 'miss you already' way. Oh no. Not with Jace Herondale. It's more in the I-want-to-repeatedly-crush-your-phone-and-destroy- it-in-a-mountain-of-lava sort of way. Let me give you an example. This is how our first conversation by text went, on the night of our 'date.'

Unknown Number: I watch you sleep.

Me: Who is this?

Unknown Number: I like to watch you sleep.

Me: Jace?

Unknown Number: I like to stand at the foot of your bed and watch you sleep.

At this point, I decided to check my history of recent calls. It turned out I had called this exact same number during my detention, so it was definitely Jace. I just hadn't saved the number to his name yet.

Me: Jace, I'm tired. Go to bed.

Jace: I like to stand at the foot of your bed, breathing heavily as I watch you sleep.

Me: Jace. Seriously.

Jace: I like to stand at the foot of your bed, breathing heavily, while resisting the urge to drink your blood as I watch you sleep.

Me: Did you just make a Twilight reference?

Jace: I like to stand at the foot of your bed, breathing heavily, while resisting the urge to drink your blood as a real vampire like Dracula would, as I watch you sleep.

Me: Jace. Please shut up.

Jace: I like to stand at the foot of your bed, breathing heavily, while resisting the urge to drink your blood as a real vampire like Dracula would, but also allowing myself to admire the decor as I watch you sleep.

Me: Jace, I will give my phone to Jonathan right now. I'm not even joking.

Jace: Goodnight, Clary. Sweet dreams.

Jace: They better all be about me.

Jace: Please don't tell Jonathan.

Jace: Okay, I'll stop now. Goodnight.

Jace: xxxxx

Jace: ;)

Me: Go to sleep.

Jace: You first. So I can watch you.

Me: That's it, I'm calling Jon.

Jace: N

Jace: O

Jace: wAIT

Jace: WAIT STOP

Jace: GOODNIGHT JACE OUT I PROMISE

Me: Good. Because if I get one more text, he's finding out.

Jace: Okay.

Jace: Shit.

Needless to say, I didn't actually tell Jonathan, but I was close. This wasn't even the worst of it. Once Jace realised I obviously wouldn't show my brother anything he sent to me, my threats became void. Sometimes, I'd just be sitting in class, trying to do my work when –

Jace: I saw this red leaf. It reminded me of you.

Or I'd be helping to set out the dining table and-

Jace: Snow White and the Seven Dwarves is on TV. I miss you.

Then there was that time I was eating lunch with Isabelle and Simon, but half way through –

Jace: I wish I was your sandwich.

I almost spit it back out right there, then I looked up and noticed Jace walking past with Jonathan. He winked at me, before continuing along on his merry way, my brother none the wiser. Luckily, Simon and Isabelle were too engrossed in their own conversation to notice our little exchange.

Though, despite the fact that at times I really do have to resist the urge to strangle him, I wouldn't have it any other way. Somehow, I don't think I'd feel quite right if Jace suddenly became one of those sappy, overbearing boyfriends. Yes, he's ridiculous. Yes, he's irritating beyond belief. Yes, he's an idiot. But just like he said the other day, he's _my _idiot. His little nicknames for me have even become bearable; whereas before it was annoying, Midge has almost become a sort of term of endearment. That thought alone is enough to have me smiling away to myself while I wait for him after school.

For the purpose of discretion, I'm meeting him down one of the side roads outside our school. Even though Jonathan isn't around to see, we don't want to take any chances. Word travels fast.

I fumble with the strap of my backpack, glancing up and down the road to see if I can spot his car. It's strange, now that we're actually being given a proper chance to be alone and act like a couple, I'm kind of nervous. I know I shouldn't be. I mean, it's _Jace_ for goodness' sake. Jace, the guy who sends me stupid texts at the most inappropriate of times. The guy who brought mangoes into English Lit, because Mr Aldertree claimed that his writing style wasn't exotic enough. The guy who is…about to _run me over!?_

I jump backwards as Jace's ancient car skids to a halt, just centimetres away from me. The exhaust puffs out a stream of toxic fumes as the engine dies down, wheezing as if it's taking its last breaths. I cough, holding my sleeve to my mouth as Jace jumps out of the driver's seat.

"Crap!" He flaps his jacket at the car, trying to disperse the smoke. "Are you okay, Clary?"

"If by okay, you really mean 'did you just have a near-death experience' then yes, Jace. I'm okay." I cough again, turning away from the offending vehicle.

"I'm so sorry," he walks up to me, patting my back none too gently. "The brakes are awful on that thing. I thought I had plenty of time to stop."

"Clearly not," I splutter. Then I turn back to face the smoking contraption. "So this is what you call transportation?"

He smiles at me sheepishly. "It's all I've got, sorry. My parents wouldn't let me spend too much money on a new car, since I only just passed this year. But then my cousin, Will, offered to give me his car for cheap because he was moving to London for university. I thought I was getting a good deal at the time."

"But where the hell did your cousin get it from? It looks like something that belongs in the 19th century."

"There's some guy he knows, Six-Fingered Nigel or something. I think he won it in some sort of bet."

"Right," I shake my head at him. "So you were going to entrust my life to something bought from a guy called Six-Fingered Nigel?"

"Won from a guy called Six-Fingered Nigel. _Won._" Jace bites his lip, eyeing the car.

"I'm not getting into that death trap, Jace." I cross my arms over my chest. "Not if you paid me."

"Fine," he sighs. "I doubt it'll start up again anyway, the engine has definitely never made that whining noise before. I guess I'll just have to improvise then."

"I guess you will."

"How about that coffee shop a couple of minutes from here? Java Jones. Taki's is having some special offer tonight, so the majority of people from school will be there insead."

"I don't know, Jace. What if someone sees us?"

"We could be waiting for Jonathan, for all they know." Jace nudges me. "Come on, Midge. Live on the edge a little."

"I already have done, thanks to you." I glare at him, gesturing to the car. He grabs my shoulders, turning me in the other direction.

"Then let me make it up to you. I'll keep it clean, I promise."

"Really?"

"Yep, no overly suggestive eye contact or anything."

"Fine, but if anyone catches us, I'm telling them you kidnapped me."

That's how, ten minutes later, I find myself sitting opposite Jace in a small booth in Java Jones. He brings two steaming cups of coffee to the table on a tray, then takes his seat. We stare at each other, both unsure of what to say. Now that we're here, things suddenly seem so much more intense. I sip at my coffee, wincing as the burning hot liquid passes down my throat. Jace does the same, almost simultaneously. Then he sets his shoulders, and appears to straighten up.

"So," he says. "Lovely weather we're having."

"Really?" I roll my eyes at him. "We're going to revert to talking about the weather?"

"I'm just trying to make conversation," he shrugs. "I want to do things the right way."

"I'm pretty sure most dates don't start with that discussion."

"Well, I wouldn't know." Jace looks down, swirling his coffee in its mug. My mouth drops open.

"You've never been on a date before?"

"What?" His eyes flick up. "Of course I have."

"Then what do you mean, you wouldn't know?"

"I just…" He hesitates, still avoiding my gaze. "I mean, well. I have been on dates as such. I've been to the cinema a few times, fast food restaurants, the opera. That was one time, mind," he stops me before I can comment. "I've been out with girls, but never for an extended amount of time. The dates I've been on before, well…they didn't matter. I only agreed to the majority of them so that the girls would stop bothering me. I've never actually _cared_ before."

"Ah," I mumble. I would say more, but it's taking everything I've got not to just throw myself at him. If anyone's in danger of jeopardising our secret, it's definitely me right now.

"Yeah," Jace smirks. "That's actually what I was going to tell you last time, before we got err…carried away. I don't think you realise how long I've wanted this."

"How long?" Despite myself, I have to ask. His eyes bore into mine, the rest of the world seemingly insignificant in that moment.

"Honestly? Ever since…"

"Clary?"

We snap our heads to the side immediately. Isabelle and Simon stand a few feet away from us, confusion etched on both of their faces. _What is my life?_

"_Jace!?"_ Simon looks like he's about to drop his own coffee mugs. "What are you two doing here?"

"Together, might I add?" Isabelle says, arching an eyebrow.

"We were…" I look to Jace for an explanation, but he's just as dumbfounded as I am. "We were…waiting for you two, of course!"

I move up, patting the space next to me.

"Yes!" Jace scoots up on his side. "Come on, Simon. I saved a seat just for you."

"But…" Simon eyes him warily. "You don't really even know me."

"Well, I think it's about time we both changed that, don't you?" Jace nods at him, waving him over again. Simon sets his coffee down, sitting down as far away from Jace as he can get, without falling off the seat.

"So…" Isabelle takes her place next to me, giving me a questioning look. I just smile in response. "How did you even know we were coming here?"

"I…well...Simon mentioned it."

"I did?" Simon looks up, adjusting his glasses.

"Yep," I continue, satisfied with this train of thought. "You mentioned it in biology, so since Jonathan's going to be late today, Jace and I thought we'd join you."

"You don't mind, do you?" Jace gazes down at him, grinning.

"N-no, well…of course not."

"It's just a bit of a surprise, that's all," Isabelle gives me a pointed look. "Actually, I just need to pop to the ladies room. Do you need to go, Clary?"

"No, I'm actually…"

"Come anyway." She links her arm with mine, pulling me out of the booth. "Just to be on the safe side."

My eyes widen at Jace as Isabelle leads me towards the washroom, her hold on me unrelenting. As soon as we're inside, she lets go and turns on her heel so we're facing each other. I try not to break eye contact with her as she stares down at me.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, Clary, and I expect for you to tell me the truth. Is that unreasonable?"

"A little…"

"Clary."

"What do you want to know?"

"You and Jace. How long has that been going on?"

"How long has what been going on?"

She just continues to glare at me.

"Was it that obvious?" I groan. Telling Isabelle won't hurt, especially since it's likely to be a while before we have the guts to come clean to Jonathan. I just hope she doesn't take it too badly.

"No, it wouldn't have been that obvious if I were _blind_," she shakes her head at me, placing her hands on her hips. "Do you really think I wouldn't have noticed the way you've been looking at him this year? It's like, every time he walks into the room, you're a complete goner. You practically drool over him. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I didn't tell you because…well, I didn't want to admit it to myself, let alone anyone else," I sigh. I've needed to get this off of my chest for so long. "I didn't _want_ to like him. I mean, he's Jace! He's the boy who threw me into the swimming pool while I was fully-clothed in Year 7, and he used to steal my paints with Jonathan when we were younger and he's just _Jace_. How could I possibly like Jace Herondale? I've hated him my entire life. It didn't make sense to me."

"It never does," Isabelle says, and now she's smirking at me. "It's not something you can just control, Clary. It just happens."

"I know," I whisper, my shoulders drooping.

"So when did it all change? When did you start liking him?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. I had a little crush on him a few years back, but that didn't mean anything."

"I think _everyone_ has had a crush on Jace at some point."

I raise my eyebrows at her, my mouth falling open.

"It was ages ago," she brushes me off. "When he started playing guitar. But then I saw him eat a worm as a dare and it completely put me off."

"Thanks, Izzy. That was a lovely mental image," I shudder.

"No problem. So when did you _really_ start liking him?"

"A couple of months ago, I guess. Do you remember Meliorn?"

"Elf-dude?"

"Yep, that's the one." So I tell her about everything that happened with him, and the subsequent fight I had with Jace. It was that week I spent apart from him, when I realised how much he meant to me. It hurt not having him around to talk to or just argue with and, for the first time, I realised how much I _needed_ him. I wanted Jace in my life. After that, everything else just spills out. I tell her what happened at the second gig, and she gasps when I get to the part in the storage room.

"Wow," her eyes bug wide. "I didn't think you had it in you, Clary. I'm impressed."

"Thanks," I smile, the blood rushing to my cheeks. "I don't know what came over me."

"Lust and uncontrollable desire," she winks, earning a smack across the shoulder. Then I tell her about what happened the next day, and she laughs when I explain my avoidance techniques to her. And finally, I tell her what happened with Mr Wayland, and how today was meant to be our first date.

"And Simon and I completely ruined it for you!" She brings her hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Clary. If I'd have known…"

"It's okay," I shrug. "It's my fault. I should have just told you."

"Yes, you should have done. But then again, I've been in love with Simon for years and I kept that a secret from you, so I guess we're even."

"I guess we are."

We grin at each other for a while, completely blissful.

"So, Clarissa Morgenstern dating _the_ Jace Herondale. Who'd have thought it?"

"Definitely not me."

"Definitely not Jonathan…"

"Oh no," I moan, burying my face in my hands.

"It's okay," she pats me on the head. "We'll figure it out. There's no rush to tell him just yet. There is however, one person you do need to tell, and I can't help you with it."

"Who is that?" I look up at her.

She gives me an apologetic look.

"Simon."

_Simon. _

_Oh crap._

* * *

**So the cat's out of the bag! Well, for Isabelle at least. I hope you all enjoyed that!**

**I've just got a question for you before I go. How many of you would be interested in me writing a spin-off of this fic, purely from Valentine's POV? It would probably be a series of one-shots or something, and it'd primarily be humour but I just love writing him so much, I thought it would be fun to dedicate a whole fic to him. So, it'll basically just be him going about doing his daily mundane activities, but obviously with good ol' Val it's never that simple. All in agreement, say aye!**

**Thank you again for taking the time to read this! Till the next time my lovelies...**

**smim xx**


	22. Chapter 22: Trying to avoid trouble

**GUYS! I can't believe the last chapter got me to the 1000 review mark, I'm actually speechless. Thank you so so much to every single one of you who has ever left me a message, followed, favourited or just stuck with me throughout this story. That's one milestone I never thought I'd reach. Just...wow. I never could have gotten this far without your support, so thank you for helping me realise how much I've missed writing. I've loved every second of this, and I'm so glad that so many of you have as well. As always, I'll try and get back to as many of you as I can. THANK YOU!**

**Also, it's great to see how many of you are interested in the Valentine spin-off. Don't worry, it won't affect this story at all. I'll only update as and when I have time, so I'll make sure I'm on schedule with BotB first. I might not even begin posting until this is finished, but I'll let you all know when it's up if you're not subscribed to me already. I'M SO EXCITED THOUGH! If you've liked my sense of humour throughout this fic, you're gonna love this. Anyway, onwards!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or any of its characters, but I have the best readers in the world**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Trying to avoid trouble**

"Guys!" Sebastian moans, running a hand through his hair irritably. He's teetering on the threshold of our porch, nervously glancing between the group of us milling about in the hallway and the car outside. "We're going to be _late_!" Jonathan revs the engine of his car in response.

It's the evening of Mallard Massacre's gig – the one Sebastian's aunt Élodie organised for him at the café – and needless to say, we aren't exactly on schedule. Since the larger equipment was moved over earlier, Jonathan seemed to forget that the rest of the boys still had to gather their guitars and such. Unfortunately, this was much more of a delicate process than he thought. Jace handles his Ibanez as if it's a new born child, so it took him around ten minutes alone just to move it from the practice room to Jonathan's car. The setback isn't that awful but in Sebastian's book, even a couple of minutes are disastrous.

"I don't think you understand!" He begins to pace back and forth outside the doorway as we continue getting ready. "This is my aunt we're dealing with. My aunt. She's-"

"French," I finish for him. "Yes, we know." I lean next to the staircase, my arms folded as I watch the rest of the guys pass amp leads and the like from one to another.

"She's going to be furious…" He carries on mumbling to himself, a bead of sweat slowly creeping down his forehead. From my point of view it's all quite comical, but then again, I'll probably have to face Jonathan's wrath later too if he's overly stressed by the time we get there. I look out of the window to see him tapping furiously on the steering wheel. I can't tell if he's doing it out of frustration, or if he's just casually playing along to some of his music. The intense facial expression could literally mean either. Just in case it's the former, I decide I might as well help.

"Do you want a hand, Alec?" I ask, watching as he struggles to see past the massive guitar case in his arms, as well as the various leads that Jordan just dumped on top of him.

"Yes please, Clary!" His voice is strained as he nudges some of the wires drooping by his feet. "Could you just…"

"Sure," I say, gathering them up so he doesn't trip over and impale himself on the amp in front of him. "Anything else?"

"I left my pick collection back there. Would you mind…"

"On it!" I pat his shoulder as I move around him, making my way towards the practice room. I dodge out of Jordan's way as he runs out, his microphone trailing behind him. Honestly, it's like a war zone in here.

"Duck!" Jace bellows out, and I manage to dip my head just as he swings a microphone stand in the air, handing it to Jordan. A few seconds earlier and he probably would have gouged my eyes out.

"Watch it, people!" I yell at them, tiptoeing past yet more equipment. "You're going to kill someone that way." It's a gig at a café. That's it. They're acting as if they're opening for some massive headlining act at an arena. Could they even fit that much gear on stage? _Is there even a stage?_

"Sorry, Midge." Jace flashes me a quick grin. "I didn't see you there until the last moment. You're lucky I made a conscious effort to lower my eyes."

"You're lucky I'm making a conscious effort not to rip your head off," I sneer at him, before pushing past so I can get to the practice room.

"You'll need a ladder for that…" I hear Jace laugh from outside, but I ignore him this time. Alec's guitar pick collection lies on the windowsill – a little red box with the words 'Property of Gabriel Lightwood' scrawled across the front, along with a badly drawn horse. I scoop it up, surveying the unusually empty room. Since the Devil's Tavern already had some equipment for the Battle of the Bands rounds, this is the first time they've had to shift everything they owned. I turn around to head back out, only to collide with Jace. I'm so much shorter than him that my head bashed directly into his chest.

"What did you forget now?" I squint at him, craning my neck to look up.

"This," he says, before pecking me on the lips. He moves so quickly that I don't even have time to respond. Then he smirks at me and holds up his own pick collection. "And this."

"Oh my God, Jace!" I gasp, pushing him back towards the door. "You can't just do that. Anyone could see."

"They're all in the car now," he shrugs. "I came back for the picks."

"Oh. Well, in that case…" I reach up on my toes and kiss him back. It's short-lived however, because then the car horn beeps from outside and we both jump apart.

"Oh my God, Clary!" He mimics my tone from before, nudging me back towards the entrance. "Stop making me late."

When we finally arrive at the café half an hour later – Jordan forgot his scarf, which is apparently detrimental to a vocalist – we're greeted by a petite brunette. To anyone else, she'd just seem to be a sweet, kindly old lady, but by the way Sebastian tenses up almost immediately, we know better. Since Jonathan had to turn the car around for Jordan, he managed to reach the café at the same time as us, despite having to cycle all of the way. This is Élodie, Sebastian's imposing aunt. She's French.

"_Tantine_," Sebastian lowers his head an inch, addressing her.

"Sebastian," she nods in response, speaking with a heavy French accent. "What time do you call this?"

"Late?" He bites his lip, still looking at the ground.

"_Oui_," she snaps, though her face betrays no emotion. "I believe that is what they would call it."

"It was my fault," Jordan steps forward, pointing to his scarf.

"No, the fault was all mine." Sebastian's eyes bulge out as he glances at his friend, a clear warning in his gaze.

"But I left my scarf…" Jordan trails off, clearly confused.

"And who are you?" Élodie's head tilts fractionally towards him.

"Jordan Kyle…err…_Madame_." He says, attempting to don the accent as Sebastian had, though it's hardly recognisable as French. If anything, it sounds more Jamaican. Sebastian shakes his head slowly. He's probably internally face-palming right now.

"Jordan Kyle," She repeats, as if tasting the name. "Where are you from, Jordan?"

"I've lived here all my life…" He frowns, still very much confused.

"Yes, but where are your jeans from?"

"My jeans?" Jordan looks down at himself, eyebrows pulling together. "Levi's?"

"Levi's?" Now Élodie looks confused. "I have not heard of this place. Where is Levi's?"

"Errm…" He looks around at the rest of us. Jace just shrugs. Maybe she's just really unaware of designer brands. "Wherever the factory is?"

"Your jeans are from a _factory_?"

"Aren't they all?" Okay, so now I'm also confused.

"What!?" She holds her hand to her mouth. "How could you suggest such a thing? My jeans are from Paris."

"But surely, they're from a factory in Paris?"

"Are you calling my parents a factory?" She takes a menacing step towards him and despite being over a foot taller, Jordan cowers back.

"What? No, of course not…"

"Genes!" I splutter. "She means G-E-N-E-S! _Genes,_ Jordan."

Élodie turns her frosty gaze on me. "That's what I said."

"Oh _genes_!" Jordan smacks himself on the forehead, saving Sebastian the trouble. "I'm part-Italian."

"Italian?" Her face takes on the weirdest expression.

"I hid his scarf," Sebastian suddenly proclaims, regaining his aunt's attention. "It is I, who is to blame."

"But…"

"Don't cover for me, Jordan!"

"B…"

"I have wronged. I accept full responsibility for the punishment."

"Silence!" Élodie holds up her hand. "I do not wish to hear more. Sebastian, I will deal with you later."

"As you wish, _Tantine._"

"Now, enough time has been wasted. All of you inside."

She stares at Jordan as he passes her, but the rest of us head into the café without any more trouble.

"What the hell was all that about?" Jonathan asks, as soon as she's out of earshot.

"Don't ask…" Sebastian shakes his head solemnly.

"What has she got against Italians, though?" Jordan whispers, noticing that Élodie's eyes are still very much on him.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"I think I have a right to know why she hates me so much."

"Hates you?" Sebastian raises his eyebrows. "Oh no, she doesn't hate you. Quite the opposite, actually."

"Explain…"

Sebastian takes a deep breath, then turns to face us all.

"Fine, but if I can't eat anything for the rest of the night, it's your fault. When she was younger, _much_ younger, she met this guy. I guess they were probably around our age at the time. He'd come to Paris as an exchange student from Rome, and apparently they had quite the…" He shudders. "Whirlwind romance."

"_Élodie Verlac," _Jonathan drawls, nodding appreciatively.

"Please don't." Sebastian pinches his nose. "I'm trying not to puke here."

"So what happened?" I ask, actually rather curious.

"Her older brother found out and went berserk," Sebastian rolls his eyes. Jace stiffens next to me.

"What did he do?" I mutter, surreptitiously glancing at Jonathan. Weirdly enough, he appears to be listening just as attentively as the rest of us.

"He found out which house he'd been staying at and had 'words' with him." Sebastian says, with the air quotations.

"Ugh," Jonathan scoffs. "Is that all?"

Jace glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

"At least, that's what she tells me. But then the next morning, he was gone. He didn't turn up at school, he didn't even call her. He just vanished and she never heard from him again. She says he was the only man she ever loved so she never married again, but every time she sees someone who even looks a little Italian, she goes into a sort of daze. Since Jordan has the tanned skin and dark hair, she asked where he was from. I should have seen it coming, really."

"So what do I do now? Maia can't make it today, so I don't even have an escape." Jordan looks back at her, shifting uncomfortably. Élodie winks at him. "Did she just…"

"Crap, it's started!" Sebastian moans. "Just don't make eye contact with her for the rest of the night. Don't say please, don't say thank you. Sit with your elbows on the table. Just do everything you can to offend her. If you stay out of her way, things might be alright."

"Well, for starters you can help me get the stuff out of the car." Jonathan gestures to the small stage area at the side of the café. It's nothing big, but it'll just about hold their equipment. "Since we're late, we haven't got long to set up."

"And what time are people meant to be arriving exactly?" I say, looking around myself. There's only a few people sitting inside and they all seem to be a little too old to be Mallard Massacre fans. They could probably be their fan's grandparents, though. Perhaps this wasn't the greatest choice of venue. At least they make amazing hot chocolate.

"They'll be here," he says, completely sure of himself. "They'll be here."

And ten minutes later, they are. A swarm of teenage girls burst into the little café, all dressed in their bumblebee-style fangirl attire. I sink deeper into my chair, clutching the mug of hot chocolate to my chest. Some of the more elderly customers get up and leave the moment they see them coming down the street. Honestly, I don't understand why Élodie agreed to this. She may not work here anymore, but she's still good friends with the owners. Surely they can't be alright with such a major shift in demographic? Luckily, Isabelle and Simon choose this time to arrive as well, so I won't be completely alone in the torture. They agreed to come for moral support.

"You look like you're having fun there!" Simon laughs, sliding into the seat opposite me. Isabelle sits down next to him.

"They put me off my hot chocolate," I sulk, placing the mug on the table and pushing it away from me.

"Well, at least they make the place look a bit more alive," Isabelle comments, glancing at the other half-occupied tables. "It wouldn't be much of a gig otherwise."

"But they're so…" I grimace, noticing a girl with the words 'Mrs Herondale' scrawled onto the back of her t-shirt. "Annoying." I shoot death glares at her, but she's too busy watching Jace set up his amp to notice. His muscles are clearly visible through his shirt, especially when he lifts up the amp to move it. I'd appreciate the view if I didn't know that others could do it too. _Stop looking!_ I resist the urge to walk over and cover her eyes._ HE'S MINE, YOU LITTLE INSECT. MINE. _Ugh, I think she might actually be drooling.

"So?" Simon taps my arm, making me face towards him. "What do you think?"

"Think about what?"

"About my suit for the wedding."

"Huh?"

"Have you even been listening to me?"

"I…" Has he been talking that whole time?

"I think she was a little…distracted," Isabelle says, giving me a pointed look and then flicking her eyes towards Jace on the stage. I glare at her in response. It was only yesterday that she found out about us, but the teasing has been relentless these past twenty-four hours. Every time we spotted him in the corridors at school today, she'd nudge me or wink or just generally try to destroy my life. I thought she'd have at least toned it down a bit in front of Simon at lunch, but her jokes about my preference for blondes and the guitar-based innuendos were shocking, even by her standards. I won't deign to repeat them here. If Simon weren't constantly so oblivious to these sorts of things, he'd have guessed it straight off.

"I was just thinking about…how sad it is that I no longer want to drink my hot chocolate."

"Or perhaps, you're just upset that you can't enjoy your hot chocolate alone," Isabelle smirks at me. "Especially while everyone else is able to look at it."

"I have no problem with people looking at my hot chocolate," I sniff, turning my self so that I'm facing away from the stage. I cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Because it definitely doesn't seem that way." She looks over my shoulder. "I mean, your hot chocolate is looking particularly good right now. Looks like it packs quite a punch."

"Then why don't you just drink it for her?" Simon says, looking between the two of us quizzically. I choke on my breath as Isabelle simultaneously starts to cough violently. "What? What did I say? Can I drink it then?"

"No!" I gasp, completely mortified. I really shouldn't have extended that metaphor.

"But it's going to get cold. Someone will have to drink it soon, or it'll go to waste."

"I'll drink it!" I say finally, ignoring the way Isabelle smiles at me. "Later."

"Are you drinking that?" Jace suddenly appears by my shoulder, pointing at my hot chocolate.

"No," I shake my head at him automatically, still trying to avoid Isabelle's gaze.

"Great, that was thirsty work." Then he grabs my mug and downs the hot chocolate in one go. Isabelle looks as if she's trying not to burst out laughing. I give her a warning look as Jace puts the mug back down and collapses into the chair next to me. "Look at this! The four of us, just like yesterday."

"Yes," Simon mumbles. "Fantastic."

Jace told me that the time they had to spend alone, while Isabelle and I were in the washroom, was awful to say the least. Jace kept attempting to make small talk, while Simon was doing his best not to give away any personal information at all. Who did he think Jace was, some secret agent who was going to break into his house to steal his…what? Pokémon card collection?

"That was a good talk we had," Jace says, nodding slowly. He looks to me then, almost as if he's seeking…approval? Wait, is he trying to show me that he's making an effort with Simon for _me_? As awkward as this situation is, I'm oddly touched.

"Yeah…" Simon nods back. "Good talk. Speaking of talking, I think you really need to have a word with that friend of yours. Kaelie, is it?"

"Kaelie?" Jace frowns.

"There was a rumour she was spreading about you a while back, and she still believes it's true. You should probably sort that out."

"What rumour?"

"About you and Clary going out," Simon shrugs, waving it off. I freeze. "It's okay, I already spoke about it with Clary. It was your fault, I believe."

"My fault?" Jace looks at me, his expression carefully guarded.

"Ah yes!" I laugh once, trying to be as offhanded as possible. "That time in English when you made everyone think I was your girlfriend." I punch him in the shoulder lightly. "Remember. That was _hilarious._"

"Oh," Jace grins. "That."

"Yes," Simon deadpans. "That."

But then it hits me.

"Wait. What do you mean, she still believes it's true?"

"Her locker is near mine, so I heard her talking about it with one of her friends. She still thinks you two are a couple. How ridiculous is that?" Simon chuckles, shaking his head.

"What exactly did she say?" I lean forward in my seat, noticing how still Jace is beside me.

"Apparently you said it yourself," he shrugs. "And here's the funny part, she seems to think it was Isabelle you said it to."

Now Isabelle freezes.

"Like I said, ridiculous!" Simon laughs again. "I mean, why would you and Isabelle have a conversation like that around her anyway?"

"Yeah…" Isabelle giggles nervously. "That's so weird."

I notice Jace is now looking at Isabelle, but she's doing everything she can to avoid eye contact.

"Honestly, I'm pretty sure everyone in her band is on the mushrooms or something anyway. You've definitely got to be loopy to keep thinking Jace and Clary would ever be a couple. You two can't stand each other!"

"Yep," Jace mumbles. "Completely loopy. I wonder where she got that idea."

"Like I said, from the mushrooms. I mean, I don't even remember seeing her yesterday."

"What do you mean?" I say, my hands gripping my seat.

"That's apparently when this imaginary conversation between you and Isabelle happened. Sometime yesterday after school. You both went back to your houses after Java Jones. Speaking of, I could really do with some coffee. Do they even have waiters around here?" Simon turns in his seat, searching the café.

Isabelle and I lock eyes with each other, panic reflected in both of our expressions. Kaelie knows something. She must. How else would she find out that Izzy and I had that conversation yesterday? We were in the washroom of Java Jones. There was no one else around…_unless she was in one of the cubicles._ Ugh, that's such a rookie mistake. Why didn't I think to check we were completely alone before telling Isabelle everything? I can tell by the look on her face that she's figured it out too.

I turn towards Jace, but he's already facing me.

"Let me guess," he whispers. "That's why you both took so long in the toilets?"

Okay, he's definitely a lot smarter than I give him credit for.

"She guessed it herself!" I whisper back, careful to make sure that Simon can't hear a word. Luckily, he's still too busy trying to grab the attention of the one and only waiter. "Sorry, I wasn't going to say anything but…"

"It's okay," he stops me. "I don't mind. It's just the Kaelie thing that's bothering me. What are we going to do about her?"

"No one believed her last time," Isabelle leans forward, joining in on our hushed conversation. "Well, Simon did, but that was about it. It's not like she exactly spread it around. He just overheard her both times."

"So, we might still be okay?" Jace asks. I know I've had time to get used to us being together, but the way he says 'we' still makes my heartbeat pick up.

"As long as…"

"What are you lot talking about?" Simon interrupts her, moving back to face us. "Still about that Kaelie thing?" The three of us move back instantaneously. "I shouldn't have mentioned it, really. I mean, it's clear she was confused." When no one answers him, he begins to scrutinise each of us in turn. Jace doesn't flinch, obviously, but unfortunately I'm the weak link. I look everywhere but at Simon, until I hear him gasp.

"Unless…" He glances back and forth between the two of us, his eyes widening with every sweep of his gaze. "Unless she wasn't confused."

Jace exhales, his breath coming out in a whoosh.

"Tell me, Clary," Simon pleads. "Please tell me she was confused."

I look to Jace but he just shrugs in response. Simon clearly notices the exchange though because it looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head. He points at Jace, then points and me.

"Simon…" Isabelle grabs his hand, hiding it under the table, but he just starts pointing with his other hand, still speechless. "Simon!" She reaches over, trying to pin down his other arm.

"But…but…" Simon squeaks, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. "But you…"

"Jace!"

_Crap._

Both our heads snap around towards Jonathan, who is approaching us from behind.

"Jace, it's time…" He trails off as he notices Simon, who is still flailing like a madman. Isabelle smiles at Jonathan awkwardly, while desperately trying to contain her boyfriend.

"But they're….they're…" Isabelle slaps a hand over his mouth before he can say anymore.

"What's wrong with him?" Jonathan arches an eyebrow.

"They're taking too long," I explain. "He wants coffee."

Muffled noises emanate from Simon, but luckily none of it is decipherable. I widen my eyes at him, silently pleading with him to quieten down. I know he's in shock, but my _brother_ is right here. Can't he see what we're trying to do?

"Right…"

_Please,_ I mouth at Simon. Finally, he notices me and settles down. Jace gets up from his seat, scraping the chair across the floor noisily.

"Good luck," I say to him. "Bring the place down." It's only just occurred to me that this is the first time I'll have seen them play, while actually rooting for them. Strange that. I won't support the band for my one and only brother, but I'll do it for the guy who refers to me as 'the Sub to his Way.'

"I will," he grins, ignoring Simon's surprised yelps. Then he follows Jonathan up to the stage as the rest of the band takes their places. I notice Élodie standing close to the edge, her eyes still on Jordan.

Isabelle releases Simon as soon as the band begins to play, since their noise is enough to drown almost anything out. The sound bounces back from the little café's walls, making the cacophony even more deadly than usual. Normally, I'd cover my ears and wish for it to be over, but now that I'm actually taking the time to watch them, I can see how much Jace is enjoying it up there. He looks at me frequently, but he's so subtle that no one else would be able to tell there were anything unconventional going on. Simon's occasional gasps are the only things that give it away. He's obviously watching Jace even more closely than I am.

It's only in the break between songs that Simon actually speaks up.

"I can't believe I'm going to be an uncle to _his_ children."

I preferred the wailing.

* * *

**Simon knows! Those two are just fighting a losing battle now.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it! I struggled for a while over Simon's reaction and how he'd find out, since I've had all the other characters planned out for a while, but I thought this was the most ironic way for it to happen. It also seems like a very 'Simon' thing, considering how generally oblivious he is, but he can have his rare moment of intuition. I hope you all agree! Again, I'd love to know what you thought. Things are definitely going to get exciting now, since the main reactions are going to be from people a little closer to home ;)**

**Till the next time...**

**smim xx **


	23. Chapter 23: Trying for less metaphors

**Hey guys! My laptop battery is about to run out any second so I'm trying to be as quick as I can with this. Thank you to all of you for reading the next chapter, some of you really do crack me up :P Hope you enjoy this one!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or any of its characters, and it's dark so I have no idea where my laptop charger is...**

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**Chapter 23: Trying for less metaphors**

"Simon!" I nudge him in the shoulder. "Stop doing that."

He doesn't move. He just continues to watch me from the corner of his eyes, while pretending to pay attention to Miss Blackthorn's slides. We're learning about plant tropisms, though I stopped listening around a minute into the presentation.

"I'm not doing anything," he whispers, though he's still very conspicuously staring at me. He makes a show of turning back to face the board, though not too long after, I see his head tilt ever so slightly towards me once again.

"Simon!"

"I can't help it, okay? It's just…I see you in a completely different light now."

"Well, duh," I roll my eyes. "You wouldn't be able to see the slides if it weren't dark."

"I meant _metaphorically,_" he huffs.

"I'm still the same Clary," I shift awkwardly in my seat, hoping no one else is zoning in our conversation.

"But you're not though, are you? Not to me, anyway. Now, you're _Jace's _Clary. You're the doting girlfriend of one of the school's most popular guys. Oh my god!" Simon suddenly gasps, his hand flying to his mouth. "You're a _WAG._"

"WHAT!?" I smack him upside the head, none too gently. Miss Blackthorn looks our way briefly, but we both sit still long enough for her to pass over us. When she's focussed on her lesson once again, I turn my furious gaze on him. "Simon Lewis, how very dare you!? I am no _WAG!_ If anything, it's the other way round. He's a…_HAB_."

"Husbands and Boyfriends? There's no such thing…"

"Well, there is now, because there's no way I'm going to be known as _just Jace's girlfriend._ We are an equal partnership. No one wears the pants."

"I did not need to know that…" Simons gags.

"I didn't mean it like that!" I slap him again, completely mortified. Okay, so I could have phrased that better. "I meant, that no one is in _charge_, Simon. Alright? No one wears the _metaphorical _pants. Either we both wear them, or no one does."

"Can we just say you both wear them?"

"Yes, let's go with that," I nod, letting out a breath. The alternative is not something I'd like to discuss with my male best friend.

"I just…I just don't understand."

"What don't you understand, Simon?" I sigh, sinking lower in my chair. I should've known to expect the Spanish Inquisition in Biology. We didn't have much time to discuss the topic at the gig last night, so it's obvious Simon was just waiting for his chance to grill me.

"Everything!"

"Well, for starters," I gesture towards the board. "That there is phototropism. It's when the plant grows towards the light."

"Clary…"

"What? You need to be more specific, Simon."

"You and Jace - that's what I don't understand. Just…why?"

"Why Jace?"

Simon nods. I gulp. _Why Jace, indeed?_

"It's not something that just happened overnight. I guess, it sort of crept up on me," I shrug. I could tell him how it happened, definitely. I could tell him about the little things that he did, and all the events that led up to it. But _why _is much more complicated.

"But you hated him, Clary. You downright _despised_ the guy."

"I know I did, but things changed. I hated him in the same way that I hate Jonathan sometimes. They both irritate me to no end, and they've both teased me relentlessly for the majority of my existence, but it's superficial. Jonathan's my brother, so I don't really hate him. He gets on my nerves, sure, and there're definitely times that I have to resist from strangling him. But at the end of the day, he's my big brother and there's no amount of black magic that's going to change that."

"Riiiight…but that doesn't explain Jace."

"With Jace, I thought it would be a similar thing. He annoyed me in English Lit, but there were times we got along too. He makes me angry beyond belief, but then he also makes me laugh. He can upset me, but then he's also the only person who could cheer me up again. And I wanted it all; the good, the bad, the definitely-not-so-ugly. The main difference was, that I was hopelessly attracted to him. He could never be just a friend to me, not when I wanted to jump his bones every time he got too close."

"Ew…" Simon shudders. "Ew ew ew."

"You asked," I shrug again.

"I did, and I'm definitely regretting it. So, it's not just because he's hot?"

"Of course not! If that were the case, I'd have pinned him down a long time ago."

"Clary!"

"_Metaphorically!_ And literally but…"

"I'm going to die," he grips the table, looking very nauseous.

"Relax, Simon." I pat him on the back. "I'm joking."

_I'm not, but sshh._

"No you're not!"

_Did I say that out loud?_

"You just waggled your eyebrows, Clary. I don't need to be a mind-reader to know what you're thinking."

I cover my eyebrows instinctively. Damn. _But seriously though…Jace…_

"And now you're smiling really creepily! Just stop thinking about him."

"But…"

"I don't care how hot he is."

"Simon Lewis!" Miss Blackthorn screeches. The colour drains from his face.

_Here we go again…_

_-o-O-o-_

After another narrow escape in biology – again, my allusions to Ben Barnes saved the day – the rest of the afternoon passes by without much more incident. Simon's still a little edgy at lunchtime, especially when Jace takes a seat with his bandmates at another table. He narrows his eyes at my boyfriend, scrutinising his every move.

"Simon, seriously! You need to stop checking Jace out…" Isabelle laughs, ruffling Simon's hair. "People might get the wrong impression."

"I'm not checking him out! I'm keeping an eye on him. There's a difference."

"And do you have anything untoward to report?" I say, leaning back in my chair.

"Actually, I do. Not so long ago, I saw him _gesture_ to another girl." Simon arches an eyebrow when he draws out the word 'gesture,' as if it were some kind of scandal.

"He never!?" I fake surprise, deciding to play along.

"Oh yes!" Simon nods, encouraged by my reaction. "He tilted his head towards her, then smiled suggestively at Jonathan."

"Really?" I look over at the table, my interest piqued, despite myself. I wasn't aware Jonathan had taken a liking to anyone in school, since that was obviously what the exchange meant. The boys are deep in conversation, all of them huddled over the centre of the table. There's no female in sight at the moment. "What did this girl look like?"

"She was _blonde_," Simon whispers. "Very tall and blonde."

"That narrows it down…"

"And she looked very suspicious."

"How so?"

"Because she was really blonde," Simon shakes his head. "There's no way that could be her natural hair colour."

"Okay, Simon?" Isabelle gets up and moves to his other side, blocking his view of Jace's table. "I think you need to ease up, dear. Here…" She holds out her chocolate bar to him. "Eat something. I'm worried for your sanity."

"But Izzy…he _gestured _at her."

"I know, Simon, and it's truly shocking. But we can deal with that later."

He tries to look past her one more time, but Isabelle makes sure that she continues to hide Jace from him. Finally, he sighs and takes the chocolate bar.

"Fine," he grumbles. "But if he thinks he can get away with this kind of behaviour again, he's got another thing coming."

"Okay, Simon…" I roll my eyes at him, but really I'm quite touched. I didn't realise Simon would be this protective of me, whether or not he approved of my choice in men. Jace looks up then and catches my eye across the canteen. A few seconds later, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

It's another text.

_Jace: So I'm not allowed to watch you sleep, but you can watch me eat?_

_Me: Deal with it. I like to watch you eat._

I glance up and smirk at him. He takes a bite out of his apple, his eyes on me the entire time.

_Jace: Are you breathing heavily?_

_Jace: It's not complete without the heavy breathing._

_Me: I'm breathing heavily._

_Jace: Are you resisting the urge to suck my blood?_

_Me: I am indeed, whilst watching you eat._

_Jace: Are you admiring the décor?_

_Me: I'm admiring a lot more than the décor ;)_

_Jace: Oh really? ;)_

_Me: Alec is looking particularly fine today. _

_Me: Dat ass. I would ;)_

Then I smile to myself as Jace begins to choke. Alec comes to his aid, patting him on the back but Jace bats him away. Unfortunately, the commotion doesn't go unnoticed my own friends.

"You two sicken me," Isabelle tuts. "Sexting in public, honestly."

Now it's Simon's turn to choke.

Other than that, the main drama of the day takes place when I arrive home. I decide to come down for a drink while the guys are practicing, taking advantage of their preoccupations. I frown as I survey the contents of the fridge. My mother always makes sure to stock it up with plenty of juices and the like, since the boys tend to get pretty thirsty during the practices, but over the last couple of days they've been devouring our supply like a herd of buffalo who have finally reached the watering hole, after trekking for days across the Savannah.

If you think I'm exaggerating…yeah okay, you're right.

Those boys couldn't even trek across the countryside for the Duke of Edinburgh award without calling their parents because they missed their PlayStations. But you get the idea. They drink a lot, leaving practically nothing for me.

I'm trying to decide whether to go for what little smoothie is left or if I should just stick with water, when I feel someone's arms wrap around my waist.

"You're in trouble," Jace whispers, his lips tickling my ear. I freeze.

"Fine…" I say, though my voice is a little shaky. It's strange how he still manages to turn me to mush with even the simplest touch. "You can have the last of the smoothie."

"Nope, not good enough." He loosens his hold on me, only to then spin me around in his arms so that I'm facing him. He reaches out with one hand to shut the fridge door behind me. "It'll take more than smoothie to heal my wounded ego."

"Aww," I pout up at him, resting my hands on his shoulders. "Did Sebastian play better than you?"

"What?" This takes him off guard. "Are you joking!? I could out-shred Sebastian in my sleep. In fact, I could probably out-shred him even if I were paralysed _and_ asleep. I play guitar sometimes when I'm unconscious anyway. Apparently, I woke Jonathan up at our last sleepover because I started two-hand tapping on his face."

"Your ego seems just fine to me," I laugh, shaking my head. "Though, I am a little worried that you two were sleeping close enough for that."

"Don't worry, Midge," he chuckles. "You're the only Morgenstern for me."

"That's good to know, because I don't know if I could hold up against competition like that."

"Well, I suppose his stamina is probably a lot better…"

"UGH!" I smack at him. "JACE, THAT'S DISGUSTING!"

"What?" He tightens his grip, eradicating any progress I'd made in pushing him away. "I was merely referring to his drumming ability. Gosh, you have such a dirty mind!" Then he winks at me. "I like it."

"I'm going to puke," I shudder, batting at him hopelessly.

"We'd make such a great couple though," he continues, completely ignoring the permanent damage this conversation is obviously doing to my brain. "With his strength and my agility…it'd be so hot."

I'm at a loss for words at this point, so I just gape at him. My mind however, is _screaming_.

"And we both have the same name so …"

"STOP IT, OH MY GOD!" I manage to squeak out, burying my face in his shirt, since going in the other direction is futile.

"Serves you right," he laughs, the sound vibrating in his chest. "See, it's not very nice when I talk about being with someone else is it?"

"Not when it's my _brother_, no!"

"That's besides the point. Alec is like my brother, so that was just as disturbing for me."

"I didn't go into quite that much detail!"

"But you left it to the imagination…"

"It's not my fault if your imagination is a _sick and twisted cesspit of a place_!"

"You said, 'Dat ass. I would.'"

I try to ignore how funny it is to hear Jace say the words, 'Dat ass' out loud, as I look back up at him.

"I wasn't finished! It could have been 'Dat ass. I would…totally find some tight-fitting jeans to further compliment his figure.' You know how Alec is with his fashion sense. Or it could have been 'Dat _ass_, I would absolutely agree that Magnus is the right donkey for him…if they were both in fact, donkeys.'"

Jace just stares at me.

"Why am I even with you?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. I guess you just drew the short straw in life."

His expression softens at that, and he leans in towards me. "I definitely drew the _short_ straw."

Damn, I didn't think that one through.

"But I wouldn't have it any other way," he adds quickly, his forehead touching mine. "I like my straws short. That way, I don't have to wait as long for the good stuff."

_Err…_

"I don't know whether to take that in a good or bad way."

"Yeah, that didn't come out quite like I was expecting," he laughs. "Can we forget this entire conversation ever happened and just kiss now?"

"That's rather forward of you, Mr Herondale," I say, raising my eyebrows.

"Would you prefer if I asked a male member of your family for permission?" He begins to pull away.

"On second thoughts, that's not necessary." I grab his t-shirt. "I just remembered I'm a woman of loose morals."

"That's most unbecoming of you, Miss Morgenstern." He grins, dipping his head so that his lips are a whisper's breadth from mine. "I cannot believe I allowed you to ensnare such an innocent gentleman as myself."

"What can I say? My talents are unparalleled." I wait for him to close the distance between us, but he stays just out of reach, teasing me.

"As is your height…"

"Jace, seriously! One more word about my height and I swear…"

But then he's kissing me and I can't even remember who I am, let alone what I was about to say. My hands stay fisted at the bottom of his shirt while he holds me, his lips moving softly against mine. Then I lay my palms flat out, as Jace brings his hands up over my shoulders, his fingers knotting in my hair. The blood pounds in my ears, blocking out any sounds other than our breaths tangling with each other.

Then I do something I haven't dared to do before. I slip my hands under his t-shirt and he gasps as my fingers make contact with the warm skin, brushing against his muscle-hardened stomach. He clutches me tighter in response, his arms travelling down my back when finally, we hear something loud enough to bring us back to reality.

It's a yelp, coming from a distinctly familiar voice. And then several more.

"Dude, what the _hell_!?"

* * *

**...**

**Don't kill me.**

**I know, that's probably the worst cliffhanger yet. I feel pretty good about this, though I know it's probably the complete opposite for you.**

**You'll find out the source of that yelping next time! Till then...**

**smim xx**


	24. Chapter 24: Trying to keep a secret

**Hello, everyone! Today has been a bit of a pain for me because it turns out there's something wrong with my charger, so my computer has died twice on me and now I've had to finish the chapter on my _phone! _**

**As a result, I haven't been able to include everything I wanted to, so it's not the longest of chapters. Hopefully I'll get it fixed by the weekend though, so I'll make it up in the next one. Thank you for bearing with me!**

**On the plus side though, WE GET CITY OF ASHES YAAAAY!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or any of its characters, and neither do I own a functioning laptop ugh**

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**Chapter 24: Trying to keep a secret**

_He clutches me tighter in response, his arms travelling down my back when finally, we hear something loud enough to bring us back to reality._

_It's a yelp, coming from a distinctly familiar voice. And then several more._

"_Dude, what the hell!?"_

We freeze. Jace's eyes fly open and he gapes at me, the two of us bearing identical expressions of pure horror. Of course, you'd expect our natural instinct to be to push away from each other as quickly as possible, but this is different. This is the kind of fear that is so unimaginable, so _mortifying_ that you're left in a state of paralysis.

I can't move and I don't even want to.

Because I know exactly who I'd have to face if I did.

Though it's definitely Jordan who spoke up, I'd know that first cry from anywhere. Jonathan.

My brother Jonathan.

_My big brother Jonathan who just caught me making out with his best friend. _

Jace knows it too; it's not until this moment that I realise quite how scared he is of Jonathan. He takes deep breaths and after another pause, he finally decides to let go of me, his hands drooping at his sides. Then he sets his jaw and turns around to face the music. In the process, he leaves me in full view of the boys standing by the door. I let my gaze sweep over them for a split second, then decide that my feet are a much safer place to stare at. Their expressions mirror ours, with eyes bugging wide and all three of their mouths hanging open.

_Wait…did I say three?_

My eyes snap back up. Sebastian stands to the furthest left, his back pressed against the wall as if he's willing himself to camouflage against the paint and disappear. Alec is in the middle, his eyes fixed on Jace with a mixture of astonishment and…fear, almost? Next to Alec is Jordan, his eyebrows slightly raised. I realise he's still waiting for us to answer him. But-

"Where's Jonathan?" Jace blurts out, just as I think the words.

"Really?" Jordan laughs once, disbelieving. "That's the first thing on your mind? _Jonathan?_"

"That's slightly worrying, dude…" Alec narrows his eyes. "For Clary, I mean."

"But I…" I cough, my voice coming out more hoarse than I intended. _Embarrassing, ugh. _"But I could swear I just heard him yell."

"He did yell."

"But then…"

"Not for the same reason," Jordan rolls his eyes, understanding my concerns. "_We _yelled out because we saw you and Jace playing lip-lacrosse."

"Tonsil tennis," Sebastian corrects him. "The term is tonsil tennis."

"Seriously?" Jordan gasps. "But that's so disgusting. I prefer lip-lacrosse."

"That's great and all," Jace interrupts them. "Well, it's not great, but what happened to Jonathan then?"

"Eh, he cracked his drumsticks," Alec grimaces. "You know, the signed Dave Grohl ones."

I let out the breath I didn't even realise I was holding. Jonathan's not here. _Jonathan didn't see us._ My life is safe for now, as is Jace's. It's not that I never intend on telling him, but this definitely isn't the way I'd want him to find out. It'll be just as sensitive a topic regarding Jace as it will be for me, so it's something we'll have to discuss with him on our own terms, preferably when he's either drunk or in a ridiculously good mood. Maybe I could buy him a new set of signed drumsticks, then hand them over to him just as I break the news? Yes, that could definitely work.

"Oh dear…"

"Oh dear indeed, then he started throwing stuff around and got a splinter and yeah…it was all pretty nasty. We thought we'd give him some time alone, but then we saw you two and now I'm even more traumatised. Thanks."

"Anytime," Jace smirks, though there's hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks. Jace Herondale blushing. _Fancy that._

"Speaking of…" Jordan crosses his arms over his chest. "What the _actual_ hell guys?" Alec and Sebastian cross their arms too, all three of them now glaring at us. If I weren't still so horrified, the whole scene would've been quite comical. It's like something out of Men In Black - I'd definitely kill for one of those memory-erasing probes right now.

Jace just smiles awkwardly and shrugs at them. "Surprise?"

"But I don't get it…" Alec shakes his head. "I mean, come on Clary!"

"Me?" I point to myself uncertainly. Jace looks down at me.

"Yes, you! I'd expect something like this from Jace, but you? I thought you were better than that."

"Hey!" Jace protests. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's nothing personal, dude. I mean, you're like a brother to me, but…we all know how you are with girls. Making out with your best friend's little sister isn't cool. It's not fair to Clary."

"Yeah," Sebastian pipes up. "That's not very proper."

"Do I get a say in this?" I huff, hands on my hips.

"Yes," Alec nods, quite solemn. "You always have a say, Clary. You shouldn't let Jace lead you on like that."

"Lead me on?" I glance quizzically at Jace, who is looking rather offended at this point. Why would they think he's just leading me on? "Wait, do you think this was just a one-off thing?"

"Isn't it?" He begins to look a little worried now.

"Definitely not," Jace scoffs. "It's more like a lost-count-off thing."

"Oh goodness!" Sebastian gasps, his hand flying to his mouth. Alec looks at Jace as if were unknowingly on fire, while Jordan just seems as if he's about to be sick.

"You're so dead…" Alec mumbles, rubbing circles into his forehead. "Oh god Jace, of all the things you could have done…"

"What are you talking about?" Now Jace looks a little worried too.

"Jonathan!" Alec flaps his arms out. "He'll _castrate_ you for messing around with his sister."

"Messing around? We're not messing around!" Jace puts an arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his side. Sebastian seems on the verge of a heart attack. "Clary's my girlfriend."

"Your…_girlfriend?_" Jordan splutters.

"Yeah," I nod, putting my arm around his waist. So that's why there were so concerned – they thought I was just another one of Jace's passing flings. Yeah okay, Jonathan would definitely castrate him for that. "We're together."

"And Jonathan doesn't know?"

"Not yet, but we're going to tell him soon."

"Wait, what?" Alec suddenly pales. "You mean, we have to keep this a _secret_?"

"Obviously!" Jace says. "You can't just go blurting it out to him. It has to be done tactfully."

"So you want me to _lie_ to Jonathan?"

"It's not lying, it's just delaying the truth."

"That's lying," Alec shakes his head violently. "You know how I am with secrets Jace, I can't do it!"

Jace lets go of me and stalks towards Alec, placing his hands on the other boy's shoulders.

"Yes you can, Alec. Jonathan doesn't suspect anything so he won't ask you outright about us, therefore you don't have to actually say anything. You just have to carry on like normal. That's not too hard."

"For how long?" Alec squeaks, his blue eyes widening.

"Just until I find some time to talk to Jonathan alone, that's all. Then I'll do all the explaining and you won't have to worry about a thing."

"I don't like this either, Jace…" Jordan begins.

"Not you too," Jace gives him a warning look. "You're fine when it comes to lying to Maia about having work to do, when really you're just playing World of Warcraft."

"I…ugh, fine."

"And you, Sebastian? Are you going to have a problem?"

"Nope," Sebastian says, avoiding eye contact. "No problem."

"Good!" Jace brushes Alec's shoulders off. "I'm glad that's settled."

"So, you'll tell him as soon as you're alone?" Alec confirms.

"At some point, yes."

"Don't you think that's worse?"

"Why would it be worse?"

"Well, there'll be no witnesses."

Jace gulps, looking back at me. I try to give him an encouraging smile, but it comes out looking more like a grimace. Honestly, I have no idea how Jonathan would react. It's become clear now that we'll definitely have to explain everything to him. If he thinks this is just some sort of phase for Jace, I don't doubt the consequences would be violent. But even if we did tell him the truth, would he really be that mad? He's never paid much attention to my love life before – mainly because it's been non-existent – so would it matter to him that I now had a boyfriend? Obviously, said boyfriend being his best friend would definitely complicate things, but I don't see how it would have that much impact on his life. I guess, as long as I didn't distract Jace from practice and the Battle of the Bands contest, there wouldn't be much for him to complain about. Then again, he hadn't reacted to Meliorn quite the way that I'd thought and for a moment back then, he really had me convinced that he'd do something awful to the elven boy.

"He's right," Jordan nods. "It doesn't matter what the situation is, Jonathan is still going to kill you."

"Why am I going to kill Jace?"

_Crap._

Jonathan walks into the kitchen then, cradling his left hand. Alec stiffens immediately, his gaze locked with Jace. Jace shakes his head infinitesimally, warning him to stay quiet.

"Smoothie!" I say, pointing to the fridge. "He was going to drink the last of the smoothie."

"What?" Jonathan whines, turning on Jace. "Why would you do that to me? You know how much I like that smoothie. I've had such a bad day, oh my god Jace!" The way he speaks takes me back to when he was about seven, and how he had a tantrum because Mum wouldn't let him wear her silk nightgown to sleep. Those drumsticks clearly meant a lot to him.

"Calm down, dude," Jace holds his hands out. "I haven't drunk it yet."

"Huh? Then why would say that, Clary? Why? That's not nice."

"My mistake…" I mutter, narrowing my eyes at him. Seriously, it's like his mind has reverted back a decade. "What's wrong, Jonathan?"

He doesn't say anything. He just pouts at me and holds out his hand.

"I don't see anything?"

"Well, duh. The pain is on the inside."

"The splinter," Sebastian explains. "He's talking about the splinter."

"Oh! Well, I'll help get it out for you then. I know Mum keeps a set of tweezers around here somewhere." I turn from him, heading towards the kitchen drawers. Perhaps the splinter is somehow affecting his ability to think coherently.

"No!" He snaps, pulling his hand back to his chest. "I like the pain. It reminds me of what I've lost."

"Jonathan," I roll my eyes. "You have many sets of drumsticks."

"How dare you?" He gasps. "Dave isn't replaceable! Ugh, I can't believe you said that." He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out half of one of the drumsticks. Part of the signature is still vaguely visible, but the majority of it has been worn away. Why would he even play with them if he didn't want them to get ruined? It's a well known fact that all drumsticks eventually get destroyed to the extent that you think a beaver has tried to chew its way through them. That's just what happens.

"Okay, well it's clear you're grieving right now, so perhaps we should all just go…" Jace begins to head for the door, but Jonathan reaches out to grab him.

"No wait! Don't go, please. I don't want to be alone right now."

"Yes, Jace!" Alec nods, beginning to back away. "The rest of us can go home, but you should definitely stay. That way you two can have some time alone together…to _talk._"

Could he be any more obvious?

"I don't know about that…" Jace tries to move away, but Jonathan just tightens his grip.

"Yeah," I add. "I'm sure Jace has a lot of work to do."

"He never does any work," Jon scoffs. "At least stay for dinner, Jace."

"I…"

"Please?" Jonathan's lower lip trembles, and I can see Jace's resolve begin to waver. Dinner should be safe enough, I guess. My parents will be there, so it's not like any particularly sensitive issues would come up. Plus, it might be kind of nice to have Jace round for a bit longer. It gives me an excuse to hang around with him without the company seeming suspicious.

"Fine..." Jace finally agrees, his shoulders drooping. Jonathan's answering smile is blinding.

We walk the other boys to the front door, the three of them seeming more than relieved to get away from us and all of our drama. Alec still sends Jace surreptitious glances, emphasising how he should use the time wisely. In retrospect, telling Alec the truth was probably a bad idea. He could barely keep the secret that time the band practically kidnapped me to take me to their first gig, so hiding something of actual importance is a worrying thought. At least if he believed we really were just having fun for the sake of it, his fear for Jace's life might outweigh his fear of lying, so we may well have been better off.

Jordan wishes Jace luck as he steps onto the porch, careful not to let Jonathan hear. Magnus was due to pick Alec up anyway, so he's agreed to drop Jordan home too. Sebastian will obviously cycle. Just as we wave off the other two, my parents' car pulls up in the driveway. We step back from the doorway a little, giving my mother space to carry her paint supplies in. On some days, she finishes teaching at the local college at the same time as Dad wraps up at his office, so they both come home together.

"Hello darlings," she chirps as she enters the house, passing her easel to me.

"Hi, Mrs M," Jace grins, ever the charmer. Then again, he has more reason to gain her favour now. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, that would be so helpful!" She claps her hands, gesturing towards some bags at the door. "Stop dawdling, Clary."

"My day was great, mother. Thank you for asking." I roll my eyes, struggling to navigate the easel through our narrow corridors into her study. Jace and Jonathan follow close behind, both carrying satchels of brushes and other equipment. It's interesting how she fawns over the two of them all the time, yet her artistic daughter is of no significance in comparison. Ah well, at least I have Dad on my side.

"Just pop them in the corner," she instructs the boys, wiping dust off of herself. "Did you need a lift home, Jace?"

"Actually, I was wondering if Jace could stay for dinner today?" Jonathan asks, donning his most innocent expression.

"Of course!" Mum doesn't hesitate at all. "I'm already setting up for one extra, so the more the merrier!"

"One extra?" I inquire, wondering who our other guest is.

"Oh yes, your father's friend Michael is coming to dinner today. He's always talking about how great a golfing partner he is, so I thought we should finally get to meet him after all these years."

"Oh, okay." I guess it would distract my father from Jace a little, so it might be a blessing in disguise. I hear male voices then at the front door, my father and Michael no doubt. Jace's eyes widen and his head snaps towards me, but Jonathan is blocking my view of the corridor, so I can't see what's gotten him so riled up.

"In here!" My mother calls, and the voices get louder as they approach the study. There's something vaguely recognisable about one of them, but Dad seems to be making the most amount of noise, so it's hard for me to decipher what it is. Eventually, my father bustles into the study, his briefcase conveniently smacking into Jace as he enters.

"Evening, all!" Valentine booms, a smug grin on his face. He checks behind himself, searching for his friend. "Just through here, Michael!"

A few seconds later, Michael finally joins us and I see why Jace was so on edge. The man looks taken aback when he spots the two of us, standing by the window.

Michael is none other than Mr Wayland.

* * *

**Dinner with Mr Wayland, her parents, her brother and Jace. Yeah, that's obviously going to go well...**

**Apologies if there's any mistakes in this, I can't proofread very well on my phone so it'll have to do. Also, just wanted to quickly mention that there's been an influx of you guys following me on tumblr (which is awesome so thank you!) but I'd love it if you could let me know somehow that you're from FF so I can tell the difference between you all and my other fandom people. I feel like you guys probably know me better, so it'd be awesome if I knew who you were. Like, just put 'Switzerland' or something in my ask aha, and I'll automatically log you as a friend!**

**As for what happened this chapter, it's clear that some of you know me pretty well now, so some theories were scarily accurate. Like I said, more was meant to happen but technology messed with it all, so I wanted to give you this at least.**

**Till Sunday (hopefully)...**

**smim xx**


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